


nothing to see here

by VITRI0L



Series: time is nothing but a flat circle (infinite and forever) [1]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Blood and Violence, Bullying, Cults, Drug Use, Egg Cult, Food Issues, Found Family, Gen, Gun Violence, Healing, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Threats of Violence, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, fucked up kids, the egg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29251704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: Tommy gets adopted by Phil and he goes to live with him in a small, quaint town in Oregon where everyone is a little... strange? But, that’s just the way things go in the town called Gravity Falls.•••“Well, good! I’m glad,” Phil said and it sounded genuine, “I can’t wait to meet you tomorrow, Tommy!”The blond teen had nothing to say to that.•••//TW:\\ Read the tags please
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: time is nothing but a flat circle (infinite and forever) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2167140
Comments: 233
Kudos: 586





	1. crime boy

**Author's Note:**

> lemme explain.
> 
> i was heavily inspired by the work “Problem Child” by Mental_Kitten on ao3! if you haven’t read it, go read that first, it’s so good! much better than whatever bullshit i’m about to pull.
> 
> i made this by combining plot points and ideas from both Gravity Falls and the DSMP. i then devolved it into whatever i’ve been writing for the past few days. the work just takes place in a magic town that i left with the name Gravity Falls, no characters from the show inhabit this world, just characters from the SMP. this is probably my biggest project since i tried to rewrite the Cursed Child and got only 2/3 of the way through and i’m excited to see how this turns out!
> 
> tell me what ya think :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy’s got someone who wants to adopt him. wonder who that is? 👀

Tommy stumbled out of the woods, branches and various other forest foliage clinging to his well worn clothes. The cabinesque house that he’d called home for the past three years came quickly into view, the dark wooden walls standing out starkly amongst all the greenery. 

He couldn’t keep the smile from his lips as he rounded the building to the front, too long grass thwacking his ankles. The sirens of the police cars were long gone now, and Tommy couldn’t push away the pride that swelled in his chest.

 _Fuck you, Seattle Police,_ he thought, _Too slow, better luck next time!_

Tommy looked up to the window of his room. The head of the orphanage, an old and bitchy lady named Ellen, really fucked up when she gave him the room that window was cupped by the porch roof. Tommy had noticed this the first day that he’d arrived, and made use of it’s escape route the next. The best part was that the staff and especially Ellen, knew that he snuck out almost every night to wander into the city limits. And they didn’t stop him.

_“I know you sneak out, Tommy. As long as you don’t get into trouble with the police…” Ellen said as the teen fiddled with the hole in his blue jeans hiding his anger beneath a layer of apathy._

_He was going to fucking kill David (his social worker) for snitching._

_But, the Director’s words surprised the wiry kid. Tommy looked up, surprise quieting the ever present anger. Her cold gray eyes looked tiredly to his and he raised his eyebrow in a silent question._

_Ellen just waved her hand at him, like she was shooing a stray._

_“Go on,” she told him._

_Tommy almost laughed in her face as he pulled the door to her office open._

_He wasn’t so mature not to slam the heavy mahogany behind him._

Tommy just laughed as he neared the bent and broken metal gutter pipe that ran up to the roof. The weak metal groaned as he adjusted his one hand, preparing to pull himself up. Gutter pipes weren’t ideal, they gave away on your weight a little too easily (something Tommy learned almost immediately), but lucky for him, he wasn’t going far.

He tensed the muscles in his legs and jumped. Pulling on the pipe, his free hand caught the edge of the small and sloped roof. The shingles dug roughly into his palm, but Tommy ignored it. He let go of the gutter pipe and grabbed the roof in one fluid motion, taking no time to pull himself up and onto his feet.

The window was still open from last night.

Tommy slipped in feet first, the smile suddenly dying quickly as he entered his small room.

David stood in the centre of the room, arms crossed over his button up shirt and eyes glittering with unamusement. The morning light breaking through the opening behind Tommy gave the older man a warm glow that would have made the teen laugh at the contrast if he didn’t feel the bubbles of anger in his chest once again.

“Tommy,” David said, tone clipped and rather weary.

“What,” he snapped back, mimicking the social worker’s pose with his own.

“We have the phone call today,” the man replied, sounding rather condescending, “With the man who wants to adopt you.”

Tommy grunted and looked away to the twin sized bed that was a familiar mess. He didn’t want to talk to that Phil guy, what was the point? Going to a home only to be returned, it was a cycle that he was too used. It had gotten old.

He said none of this however. (He didn’t want a lecture for a guy who only pretended to sympathize.)

“What time?” he asked instead, eyes dancing across the pale and peeling paint of the plain room.

“Five minutes ago.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short boi but they get longer, promise
> 
> go read “Problem Child” by Mental_Kitten :)


	2. adoption pog?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy’s phone call with philza goes about as well as you’d expect

“I’m sorry for the wait, Mr. Watson…” were the only words of the conversation that Tommy remembered hearing before he got bored. He hated sitting in Ellen’s office, the smell of old books reeked from the myriad of bookshelves that lined the room made him sick. That plus the bitching and moaning that Tommy knew David was doing to the man who wanted to adopt him made his “how many fucks I give” metre drop to zero.

So, the teen just focused his attention on dully picking at the cheap leather that made up the armchair upon which he sat. 

Tommy pulled some of the foam from the little hole with a rare feeling of satisfaction.

“Tommy,” a voice snapped.

He looked up to see David staring at him expectantly. There were shuffling noises from the landline on the desk before him, but besides that, there was silence. 

Tommy refused to be embarrassed so he just shrugged.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” he replied coolly. 

There was no sorry attached.

But, before David could chastise him, there was a loud giggle emitting from the phone.

“You sound like a fucking… I dunno, monster or something,” a low voice admitted, humour evident in his tone.

Another laugh, but more stifled, followed.

Tommy scowled.

“Wilbur, knock it off,” a higher, but older voice said back, sounding a little more distant.

There was more shuffling as David turned to stare at the phone, gray eyebrows pulling together in a look of deep confusion. Tommy couldn’t stop the way his knee bounced aggressively as he choked back the pile of swear words flooding to his mouth.

“You didn’t tell us you had kids, Mr. Watson,” his social worker replied calmly. 

“Ah, my apologies,” the older voice (Phil, apparently) replied, “He’s my first son, I adopted him too. I love him to death, though he is a handful.”

Tommy flinched at the words, pulling himself into a self hug. So Phil was a success story, eh? Tommy wasn’t stupid, he had enough expierence to know that those were the super religious ones who expected obedience.

Or the fucking insane ones.

_Fuck, shit…_

_...bitch._

“Ah,” David started, which caused Tommy to roll his eyes so hard that he almost fell out of the chair, forgetting his nervousness for a second, “I am glad to know that Tommy will be in good hands. Speak of which, would you like to talk to him?”

Tommy scowled as Phil made an affirmative humming noise. His knee bounced and he focused his attention on the hole in his jeans as the line went quiet, presumably so Phil could think of what to say.

“You’re sure you’re ok with moving to Oregon, Tommy?” was the question he went with.

Tommy flicked his eyes up to David, confusion running through his mind and the pit in his stomach only growing. His social worker just gave him an “if you’d been paying attention” look which the teen immediately ignored, turning to look at the phone.

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit,” he mumbled, hoping it came off as bitchy.

But, if it did, Phil didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t even tell the teen off for swearing, like David looked like he wanted to. There was just a gentle laugh from the speaker and a quiet sigh, (that didn’t sound annoyed, might he add), as Phil replied.

“Well, good! I’m glad,” and it sounded genuine, “I can’t wait to meet you tomorrow, Tommy!”

The blond teen had nothing to say to that.

“Ok,” he was all he could come up with, suddenly too angry and nervous to look at the phone.

David finished up the conversation with the man as Tommy stared down at his now still knees. He had the urge to take off, but he knew he wouldn’t make it to the front door before he was pinned by one of the staff or kids. So, he just shoved down the rising panic and waited for his social worker to tap his shoulder.

Which he did, lightly, causing the teen to spring out of his seat, anxious to go back to his room.

David led him back through the living room and up the wooden stairs. Tommy ignored the pierces that the looks from the other kids in the living room gave him, not wanting to get another write up on his record. He clenched his fists tightly as he followed the older man up the stairs, those curious and rather angry eyes never leaving him until they turned the corner and went towards the end of the hall.

David stood off to the side as Tommy proceeded forward. Tommy looked about, eyes landing on the previously open window and scowled, whirling back around to his social worker. 

“Pack all your stuff, ok?” he said gently.

“Why?” Tommy bit back, pointing an accusatory finger towards the closed escape.

“It’s locked,” David replied, fatigue evident, “You’re not missing this meeting tomorrow.”

He had no time to retort as the older man was gone, shutting the splinter filled door silently.

Blood boiled and rage flared, burning throughout his entire body.

Tommy grabbed an eraser off his white desk, hurling at the spot where David had just stood. 

The thump placated his anger for a microsecond, but the way the little pink fucker bounced back and nearly slammed into Tommy’s face just made him more upset. 

He wanted to put another hole in the drywall.

Instead, he just laid face down on his too small bed and into the flat pillow, Tommy screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one night? 
> 
> 0.o
> 
> am i going to heavily edit this later?
> 
> prolly


	3. leavin’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it’s time for tommy to leave the orphanage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🤠

Loud pounding knocks startled Tommy awake.

“Get the fuck up, you’re being adopted today! Wouldn’t want to miss it!” an unmistakable voice called from the other side of the door before loud stomping grew further and further away.

Alice was a bitch and she wasn’t even a teenager yet. Not that Tommy blamed her, the system left a lot of kids with a lot of problems that often started too early for “normal” kids. It earned the kids in the orphanage no points in Tommy’s books, however, because they weren’t special. He was known as one of the worst kids amongst the other orphans, a real bitch and someone who wasn’t afraid to cut anyone. It all stemmed from the fact that the blond had tried to stab a kid with his plastic fork at lunch when said kid tried to steal some of his fries. It really didn’t matter that the kid was ten, Tommy wasn’t someone who’d let shit slide.

None of the kids talked to him after that and Tommy refused to apologize to the kid and to the staff who’d had to wrestle him to the ground. 

He didn’t care about them.

Except for her.

Alice was the only one who interacted with Tommy in any way. When she wasn’t out in the yard with intense supervision, she was in the older kid’s face, cussing him out whenever he tried to piss her off (which was always). 

She wasn’t half bad. 

But, as Tommy tumbled out of bed, clothes from yesterday still on, he couldn’t find any part of him that felt bad or guilty about leaving her here. 

He’d be back soon enough.

The teen grabbed his backpack, which he’d stuffed with only the most important things he had. His old toothbrush, a sharp and broken hairbrush, some clothes that the orphanage had provided. An scratched MP3 player and some shitty earbuds he’d stolen while in the city were his prized possessions. He’d kill multiple bitches over his music. 

He stood in the middle of the surprisingly bare room.

Tommy glanced behind his shoulder.

The window, locked. 

Without second thought, he put his fist through the gentle glass.

It shattered easily.

Tommy smiled, something pleasant swimming around his mind.

He opened the shitty door.

Blood stained his knuckles as he made his way down the stairs, dirty sneakers squeaking loudly.

David was waiting by the front door as Tommy gave him an uncharacteristically happy smile. If the older man noticed his damaged hand, he said nothing about it.

“You ready?” he asked plainly.

The other kids had begun to congregate, all watching Tommy as he shifted his weight from side to side. They were always watched when someone else got adopted, Tommy remembered brushing Alice off as she demanded he watch the kid he nearly stabbed over lunch get led out by a social worker. 

Usually, all the attention would bother him, but Tommy was still smiling.

“Yeah,” he replied, getting the perfect mix of general happiness and uncaring apathy in the response.

David hummed and pulled keys from his suit jacket. The cool metal unlocked the dark wood and the older pushed it harshly. 

The door swung open casually, hinges silent. The bright morning light assaulted Tommy’s poor eyes once more, the world appearing before him. He can’t remember one time where he’d gone out the front door of the orphanage, it always seemed to be closed. 

_The dark and heavy door of the home shut solidly behind him, and the other orphans stare at the new kid with a blank expectancy._

_“Welcome, Tommy,” an elder woman told him._

_He frowned as the two other adults that had escorted him and David there shook hands with the regal looking woman, discussing things that the kid tuned out._

_Tommy already hated it here._

No guards accompanied them now as David stepped out onto the broken concrete porch. Tommy followed quickly, not in the mood to be a little bitch about it. The wind whispered gently and the sickening sound of that heavy door closing behind him suddenly felt… comforting. 

They walk down the gravel path with no conversation, not that it matters to Tommy. He was more than happy to look around the overgrown lawn, the dark woods and the metal gates with fences that stood a little two tall. He was shocked to see that those angry gates weren’t rusted and easily bendable like they were in the forest. 

_Someone should really fix that_ , Tommy thought to himself, grin pulling on his face muscles uncomfortably.

“Someone’s happy,” David commented casually as he unlocked the metal gates that let them through with a groan.

“Yeah,” Tommy replied, rolling his eyes once the social worker turned his attention to the metal lock and pocketing the key once it was firmly shut.

David’s car sat by the edge of the cracked pavement, the colour a rather fitting and sad gray. Everything about that man seemed gray.

“Get in,” David told him, slipping into the little vehicle himself.

Tommy did.

“Where are we going?” he asked, placing his backpack on the floor between his legs as David turned the key, car rumbling to life.

“The mall,” he replied, pulling away from the curb and continuing down the tree lined road, “He said something about wanting to get you stuff right away.”

Suddenly, Tommy was reminded of his concerns from yesterday as he fished his MP3 from his pack. This Phil guy, he was a success story with another adopted kid who seemed like a horrible person. He was going to try and fix Tommy. 

Uneasiness crowded his lungs as he tried to pop his earbuds in like nothing was wrong. 

_No one has ever fixed me,_ he thought bitterly, _But they’ve all tried._

Tommy turned his music on and bit his lip, watching the suburbs pass quietly.

And maybe David noticed, because through his too loud rock, Tommy could hear a gentle,

“Get some rest, kid.”

And he did.

But, definitely not because he was asked to.


	4. adoption pog 👍

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy gets to meet phil & his interesting family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moving plot is fucking hard

Surprisingly, Seattle wasn't raining when Tommy was shaken awake with a gentle tap on his shoulder. David nodded to the large white building before him that’s entrance was lined with large windows and got out of the parked car.

Tommy followed and slung his backpack over his shoulders, careful not to actually slam the car door. Usually it wouldn’t matter to him whether or not a door or two fell off their hinges, but there was something about the way the sun shone softly that made him hesitate. 

David was wearing a lanyard around his neck that said his full name and told everyone that he was indeed Tommy’s social worker. It was aggravating, but the teen didn’t comment as they walked up the very crowded parking lot towards the grand entrance.

As much as Tommy hated other people, something calmed him about the mall. It wasn’t a place that he stole from, too public, but that was exactly why it was a good place. His new “family” would have to at least pretend to like him so as to not be questioned by all the judgmental gazes around them. 

All the other shit would have to wait until they brought him home.

It was too loud in the mall, so the teen just turned his music up a little louder and hunched over a little more, trying to escape all the wandering eyes and obnoxious conversations. 

The floor was a shiny tile, clean enough for Tommy to see his reflection in the tile. He looked like the mess he was, hair like a rat’s nest, white shirt ill fitting and blue jeans too baggy with one little hole out of place. He scowled at himself and quickly set his apathetic mask over everything else. Tommy didn’t care what others thought of him.

(It was partially true.)

They were on the second floor, apparently. The glass railings made it easy to look and see what everyone was doing below you. Tommy frowned as they made a right, heading for some moving stairs towards the end of the building. The sun filtered through the glass roof that was only above the part of the first floor that you could look down to. 

_This place is fucking weird,_ he mused, glancing around at the stores that lined the outside of the walkway and the white pillars that the glass railings clung to.

Tommy couldn’t remember one other time he’d gone to such a big mall and he knew that it showed.

They’d reached the end store in front of the moving stairs, which was something that started with an M. Tommy was too tired for the car nap to actually use his brain and try to read that bullshit.

Why was English so goddamn hard?

“Mr. Watson,” David said over the chatter of others.

A blond man with longish hair smiled at the social worker, standing up from the bench he’d been occupying at was supposedly his name. The man was shorter than Tommy with blue eyes that sparkled good naturedly when David asked to see his ID. He wore dark shorts and a green shirt and he looked as old as Tommy suspected he was.

His skull prickled uncomfortably, causing the teen to whip his head around. 

A young man, maybe a little older than Tommy, was giving the teen a too big smile. Brown hair fell in the way of his dark eyes and his pallid skin made him look skeletal. He was riding up the moving stairs with another man by his side, but Tommy didn’t stick around to know what they wanted.

He sneered at the brunet and briskly walked over to David’s side, trying to ignore the way the gaze burned his skull. 

“-all set… hey, Tommy,” Phil said when he noticed the kid.

Tommy just hummed in return, his good mood evaporated by the gaze he could still feel in the back of his head. 

This didn’t seem to affect Phil at all, though.

“If everything is all set with you guys, then we can get to shopping,” the older man said cheerily, a gentle smile ever present on his face.

“You ready, Tommy?” David asked.

He always asked that. 

“Yeah, you’re good to go,” Tommy mumbled, staring at the tile below him.

“Well, call me if you need anything,” the social worker replied.

A tap on his shoulder.

Tommy looked up to see David’s soft smile.

The man didn’t say goodbye, just opting to nod at the teen with an emotion that Tommy wasn’t sure he knew. 

Then, he was leaving.

 _He always does that,_ he thought, the pit in his stomach growing a little. 

He pulled out his earbuds and shoved both that and his music player in his back pocket, turning his attention to Phil.

“We’re just waiting on Wil- oh, there he is,” Phil spoke up, pulling the teen’s gaze from the other. 

To Tommy’s utter surprise and horror, the person waving back to Phil was the same brunet who’d been watching the teen this whole time. Not only that, but the other man who Wilbur (apparently) had been standing with was also coming over.

Tommy frowned and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. 

“Hey, Phil,” the brunet with the yellow sweater said as soon as he was within earshot.

Yeah, that was definitely the voice from the phone call that called Tommy a fucking monster. 

Anger bubbled up.

“Wil, I was wondering if you and Techno would take Tommy to the food court while I go look for some things for his room?” Phil asked calmly. 

Tommy’s gaze snapped back to the other three. 

Firstly, why the fuck was he going to be stuck with Wilbur?

And secondly,

“Why the fuck is your name Techno?!”


	5. meet the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tommy has to spend time with wil & techno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW/CW: panic attacks, bad relationships with food/eating**

The mall sucked but these people sucked much more. 

Tommy found himself stuck in a line for a food court restaurant that he’d never eaten at before, surrounded by the brunet who wore a shit eating grin and the other guy, Techno, who was just as weird as Wilbur. 

Techno had _pink_ hair that was braided to the side. He was so white his skin was tinted _**pink**_ and he looked around with deep crimson eyes. He wore a red hoodie and plain jeans and looked just as uncomfortable as Tommy felt. 

“I was right, you are a monster,” Wilbur piped up, curious eyes looking down at Tommy. “Maybe like… a gremlin!”

It was the first thing he said to him in person and he sounded all excited, super proud of himself n shit. 

Tommy straightened to full height, nearly closing the distance between them and glared furiously into the other’s stupid face. This only seemed to amuse Wil further, something dancing joyously in his eyes. 

Tommy knew better than to sock his new “brother” in the face on the first day.

He’d do it tomorrow.

“Knock it off you two,” Techno replied.

Tommy had to clench his jaw closed at the sound of the man’s voice. Whereas Phil and Wilbur’s voices were accented similar to his, Techno had a very American accent. But, not only that, the man spoke in a low monotone that made him sound disinterested in the words he was speaking.

Tommy could only blink before quickly remembering himself.

“You never did answer my question, y’know.”

Techno’s red eyes were trained on him now and Tommy could see the annoyance in the dark depths.

“I told you, Techno is my name because it _is_ ,” the man repeated.

Tommy frowned, but internally he grinned. 

“And _I_ said that’s not a real answer, because it _isn’t_ , bruv,” he replied casually. 

Techno looked as though he wanted to slam Tommy into the nearest piece of tile and said teen was enjoying every second of getting under the strange man’s skin. Their argument would have surely continued (Wilbur seemed to enjoy the bickering), but they were interrupted by the cashier.

“What would you like?” she asked them.

It was a simple question, but Tommy began to panic. He hadn’t even looked at the signs above them that told them the menu. Plus, he really wasn’t in the mood to try and read all those little words. 

Blood rushed to his ears and the general chatter and social ambience of the mall was replaced by the rapid beating of his heart. His throat felt way to dry as it began to close, cutting off his air supply. Tears were welling in his eyes. 

Tommy needed to push his attack away before he bursted into tears around complete strangers. 

He went to open his mouth, panic gripping his lungs when a hand encircled his wrist and pulled him along. 

Tommy’s world stopped going all dark and splotchy, focusing once more. He could see that it was Wilbur who was guiding him along like a lost little kid. Suppressing the urge to flinch, the teen ripped his hand from the other’s grip, suddenly stopping.

Wil turned, face blank as he watched Tommy. 

“Why—why’d you pull me away,” he snarled, forcing the words from his mouth, “What… I didn’t—”

“Techno ordered you a burger and pop,” Wilbur replied casually, gesturing to the pink haired man already sitting at an empty table. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Tommy refused to recognize any emotion in the other’s voice as he just grunted in acknowledgment, brushing past the older and towards the plastic table.

He didn’t care if Wilbur followed or not. 

The blond took a seat opposite of Techno, refusing to look at the older man. 

“Here,” he said. 

A white and cardboard cup and aluminium wrapped burger on a red, plastic tray skidded to a perilous stop right at the edge of the table. 

Tommy still didn’t look up.

Wil took a space in between the two, but Tommy ignored them in favor of unwrapping his burger. It smelled good, as far as he could tell, but it looked like too much food to him. There was bacon and cheese sandwich between the bun and meat. 

There was no way he could eat all of that.

He still tried. 

The teen was stunned into silence as he watched Wilbur practically inhale his entire burger in like ten seconds and quickly start on the pile of fries. He’d only managed three bites and this kid was acting like human anatomy wasn’t a thing and he was a fucking vacuum.

Tommy shifted his gaze to Techno, who just had a cup of water and the other must have seen the pure shock on his face because a small grin broke across his face.

“Yeah, he eats like a slob,” Techno said plainly, ignoring the daggers Wilbur’s gaze threw.

Tommy simply nodded in agreement and tried to take a sip of the sharp drink in his cup. He didn’t particularly like pop, it hurt his throat. He would have been fine with water, but the teen rather not be seen as ungrateful right off the bat. So, he forced that down too.

“So… who are you, exactly?” Tommy asked, looking expectantly at the pink hair man.

“He practically lives at our house,” Wilbur butted in, mouth still full of potatoes, “He’s always around Phil.”

Techno frowned at that.

“No, I’m not,” was all he offered. 

Something clicked in Tommy’s head.

“Oh, are you two dating?” he asked carefully.

Wilbur made a loud noise before obviously inhaling a fry the wrong way. The brunet was thrown into a coughing fit that Techno didn’t seem to care about. His face was as red as his eyes and he stuttered to find any kind of words.

Tommy was so confused. Wil quickly downed mouthfuls of his soda, face blotchy and red as he started _laughing._ A full on attack ran through the brunet, as he collapsed onto the table beside his place, laughter ringing throughout the entire food court. He was shaking from how vicious the sound escaped him. The blond quickly realized he’d made a mistake and the tips of his ears burned furiously.

“Sorry, Techno,” he muttered to the still dumbfounded pinkette, looking down to the meal he was no longer slightly hungry for. 

“Tommy—Tommy… oh my god—” Wil managed to gasp out.

He took a deep breath, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

“They might as well be,” the brunet said, much clearer this time.

He was no longer dying, but he was wiping a few tears from his still reddened cheeks and quietly trying not to burst into more laughter. Techno frowned at the other and sighed, still looking sheepish.

“Apology accepted, Tommy,” he began tiredly, “Pull yourself together, Wilbur.”

At least they weren’t mad.

And then it hit him. He, Tommy the new adopted kid, had just made Wilbur laugh. Wilbur, a man who seemed destined to hate him, who called him a monster twice in their first two meetings. 

Tommy felt a little spark of pride burn gently. 

“Hey, you all look like you’re having fun,” a familiar voice said from behind the blond teen.

“At my expense,” Techno mumbled, standing up.

Tommy glanced over his shoulder to find Phil smiling gently at him. Wilbur had gone back to inhaling his fries, and quickly following Techno to the garbage can once he’d finished.

Tommy got up to throw his stuff away when Phil stopped him with an open palm.

“Just wrap it back up and put it in your bag,” he said, “You don’t want to waste food.”

Tommy frowned lightly, but did as the man said. The blond man took his empty drink and went to dispose of that as well. Tommy didn’t even get to protest as he was carrying three shopping bags in one hand. 

Tommy sighed as he shoved his hamburger away.

He didn’t even notice that Phil hadn’t tried to touch him once until Wilbur appeared before him, placing a bony ass hand on Tommy’s shoulder. 

He tensed, meeting Wil’s twinkling eyes and pushing down his instincts telling him to run. 

“Tommy,” the brunet began, “You’re a runner, aren’t you?”

The teen frowned, unsure how the other would know that. He didn’t think that he gave off a flighty sort of vibe, but nonetheless, the brunet knew now.

He didn’t even wait for Tommy’s answer, suddenly loom sinisterly over the younger. Tommy freaked the fuck out and leaned away as much as the tight grip on his shoulder would let him. Which wasn’t far enough. 

Wilbur’s eyes changed to something more dangerous and the smile that Tommy had seen him wearing a few minutes early had fallen into something more meticulous and cold. Suddenly, he was a scary motherfucker.

“If you want to run, then join our schools track team,” he began slowly, eyes tearing into Tommy’s very being, “You **won’t** make this harder on Phil, got it?”

The teen pushed away the urge to escape and made himself nod. Seemingly satisfied, Wilbur smiled and pulled away, giving the other what was probably supposed to be a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Alright boys, lets go,” Phil called as him and Techno caught up to them.

Wilbur immediately joined the group, leaving Tommy to struggle to make himself function again and put his backpack on.

_So much for making a good impression._

He let himself flinch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapter’s look so long in the docs what the hell lol


	6. fairbanks, alaska

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a new chapter in tommy’s life begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fairbanks, alaska by the front bottoms is the song of this chapter

Phil had asserted that Tommy would get the passenger’s seat, as the drive to Oregon would be around six hours, much to both Techno and Wilbur’s complaints. Tommy was just grateful that he didn’t have to choose who to sit next to, the guy he had embarrassed or the guy who had just threatened him. 

The second they were on the road, he put his earbuds back in, ignoring the conversations going on around him. 

The landscape passed calmly by.

 _They aren’t to be trusted,_ he reminded himself, fighting off the comforting way the car rolled against the road. 

Tommy didn’t want to sleep, he couldn’t be vulnerable around them.

Apparently his instincts were pretty shitty, because the darkness slowly replaced the world around him. 

_I haven’t checked my my time, I haven’t checked my mind  
Since I saw the northern lights in Fairbanks, Alaska  
Ahh-ooh_

And Tommy was gone.

•••

“—ommy. Tommy…”

The teen startled awake, all comfort replaced by an avid alertness. He pushed himself up in the small carseat, heart racing. There’s a gentle laugh.

“It’s alright, mate,” Phil replied, opening his side of the car, “We’re just home, that’s all. Wil and Techno are already inside.”

Tommy sighed gently, praying that Phil didn’t hear. He didn’t particularly want to go inside, but Wilbur’s threat still echoed in the back of his mind. So, he just sucked it up and got out to. 

His legs were stiff from such a long ride and the fact that he was almost too tall for such a small car. Phil was standing on the wooden porch, watching kindly as Tommy dragged himself and his bookbag over. 

“Does Techno really live with you?” Tommy asked curiously, glancing around the outside of his supposed home. 

It had a stone base a few feet tall wrapping all around it, but unlike the neighbors that peeked through the trees around them, the rest was made of wood. 

_Flammable_ , was the worst and only thought that came to mind.

“Yeah, basically,” Phil replied, opening the door. 

He stood patiently, and it took Tommy way too long to realize that the man wanted him to go in first. The teen nearly tripped over himself to rush inside. 

“How old is he?” he asked quietly.

“Almost thirty,” the man said, clearly trying to suppress a laugh. 

“Twenty three isn’t almost thirty,” that monotone voice called from down the stairs right beside them. 

Phil laughed for real this time. 

Tommy hated the way that the sound made him want to smile too. He also hated Phil for being so cheery and being so willing to talk to you and having a son who was probably a murderer. 

“And I’m a senior in high school,” said murderer son told Tommy as if the blond cared. 

The brunet skipped the last stair step, crossing in front of the threshold and into the living room beside them. Tommy frowned once more, watching the way the older flopped onto the plush couch against the far wall, still visible. 

And that bothered the teen.

“What a weird fucking way to say that you’re eighteen,” Tommy complained, following Phil’s lead and taking off his shoes.

Something flickered through Wilbur’s eyes, but it didn’t stick around long enough for Tommy to identify what it was. The older just rolled his eyes, training them on the TV opposite him, not dignifying Tommy with a response. The blond just sneered in his general direction.

“Tommy, let me show you where your room is,” Phil called, already halfway up the stairs when he turned to look at him.

He practically sprinted up the stairs, skipping two at a time just because he could.

 _Wilbur’s not the only tall bitch ‘round here,_ he thought smugly when he reached the top. 

“Your room’s all the way down to the left,” Phil said, pulling the teen from his thoughts, “Mine’s right across from yours. Then Wil’s is next to you and the spare bedroom that Techno uses is next to his. The bathroom across from Wil and Techno’s rooms, and there’s also a master bath in mine, for emergencies only.”

Tommy nodded, carefully, looked down the long hallway. Both Techno’s and Wil’s doors were closed and the teen couldn’t help but think that privacy was going to be an issue. 

“Go put your stuff in your room and then come to the bathroom, ok? Take these.”

Tommy nodded without any protest. He grabbed the bags that Phil gave him and began walking briskly to his new room. Much to his continued surprise, the small room was a lot nicer than he was used to.

A bed pushed to the corner next to the window in the middle of the wall. It looked like it was actually big enough to fit the lanky teen. Tommy hummed, crossing the carpeted floor and placing the heavy bags down on the bare mattress. A wooden dresser sat at the end of the bed and the closet door stood in front of that. There was a desk on the wall opposite with a little bookshelf beside it. The walls were painted a warm cream and none of the paint was peeling nor were there holes in the plaster.

Curiosity got the better of him and the teen dumped the contents of the various bags out onto the bed. A set of sheets fall out followed by a thick blanket. There were clean pillows in the next and a small desk lamp in the last. 

It was also so… much, it was **too** much. Tommy quickly sprung to his feet, throwing his black and dirty backpack against the desk. He rushed quickly from the small room, closing the door a little too loudly as he ran to meet Phil in the bathroom.

The bright florescences made the older man look almost ghostly as he stood by the sink. Phil smiled gently and gestured for Tommy to come in.

The was a first aid kit on the white counter.

“What— why do you have that?” the teen asked, walking over cautiously. 

“Your hand,” Phil replied plainly, that smile never wavering.

Tommy looked down at his right hand and was shocked to see that there was still dried blood caked all over his messed up knuckles. If he were being honest, he’d completely forgotten about how he punched a hole in the orphanage’s window. The cuts that were most definitely hidden beneath the crimson layer didn’t even hurt. 

“Oh,” he said stupidly. 

“Put your hand on the counter,” the older man told him.  
The injury might not have hurt, but the antiseptic wipes that Phil used sure as hell did. Tommy did his best not to hiss, but it didn’t help that Phil was making calming humming noises as he carefully swept the dry blood away like the teen was a baby. 

_Why the fuck is he doing that?_

It made Tommy angry.

It was over soon enough, with Phil instructing the teen to hold still. Tommy did, but actively shuddered when there was cool cream being applied to the angry cuts. Tommy frowned and bit his tongue, but let the older man continue to do his best to not touch the teen too much while still doing what he was doing.

“It’ll help with the bruising. It’ll heal faster this way,” Phil said, completely non prompted and like he knew what Tommy was thinking. 

The teen said nothing.

And his hand was quickly padded with gauze and wrapped with white medical tape. Tommy thought that that was going overboard, but he didn’t really want to stick his two senses in so he bit his tongue and let Phil continue.

Once his hand was completely wrapped, Tommy pulled it tentavivally away, quietly watching Phil wash and dry his hands.

“How are you, Tommy?” the older man asked gently.

“I— fine,” Tommy answered, looking away when those blue eyes fell on him.

“Do you want to eat dinner with us?” 

Tommy shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Phil asked again, eyes burning Tommy’s skin.

He nodded. 

“Ok, but if you get hungry, anything in the fridge is fair game,” the older man informed. 

_“You won’t make this harder on Phil.”_

Tommy hummed, much more interested in the tears in his sock than this conversation.

“Tommy.”

He doesn’t look up.

A gentle tap on his shoulder. 

Tommy’s eyes snapped to look towards Phil. He was smiling, but there was something sad behind his already blue eyes. 

“How…?” Tommy asked, unable to finish his question.

“Your file,” the man responded.

His stomach did a flip and the teen suddenly soured. He hated his file, hated all the words that were written in there. They told his life story and it wasn’t like it was a good story. Besides, he didn’t want Phil to break into his privacy, but the man had a right to know how fucked up the kid he was going to be adopting was. 

It hurt, but people deserved to know what kind of person he was.

_A monster._

“But, Tommy,” Phil began carefully, “I didn’t read about anything you’ve gone through. I only looked at things you find comforting and the things you don’t like. Your story is your own to tell, and whether or not you decide to include me in the audience is your choice.”

Tears well up as he looks to the sincerity of the stranger before him.

“Promise?” he muttered, hating how weak he sounded.

“Promise,” Phil swore, warm and accented voice swelling on the vowels. “And, Tommy, don’t ever be afraid to tell me if Techno or Wilbur do anything to make you uncomfortable. They’re… interesting people, each with their own baggage. But, they don’t want to hurt you.”

Why did he feel like he could trust this man?

“Do you understand?” 

“Yeah… yeah, I do,” the teen managed.

It was the longest sentence he’d spoken to that man since he’d adopted him.

“Good. Now, get some sleep. You were quite tired in the car ride,” Phil said in the most fatherly tone Tommy could imagine. 

With that, the older man gave him one final nod before leaving Tommy to his thoughts. And as the teen stood in the too white bathroom, he understood something. 

Yes, he hated Phil.

But, he hated how _kind_ the man seemed to be. 

The revelation left him without energy to brush away the few stray tears that ran down his face as he made his way back to his room. Tommy didn’t know how to put sheets on a bed properly, he would always need someone elses help. 

And he didn’t ask for help.

So, he just laid on the empty mattress, staring up at the blank ceiling with his head oddly silent. 

Tommy ended up finishing that burger after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phil good dad 👍


	7. of dreams and nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a dream sequence...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW/CW: near death experiences (in a dream)**

_The sound of waves could be heard, crashing against the rocks of the cliff below them. The salty wind whipped at his face and tugged at his already messy hair._

_There was chatter coming from the car behind him, but Tommy could never understand what was being said, so he focuses on the way the sun rose from the waves of the sea, peeking out little by little until it was climbing out like Posiedon._

_“What’cha looking at, Toms?” a deep voice asked him._

_It belonged to the tall man who now stood by his side._

_His father._

_“The sun,” he babbled cheerily, “Look how pretty it is, Da!”_

_The older man chuckled, patting him kindly on the top of his head._

_“You’re right, it is quite nice,” he replied softly._

_“Mary, do you need help?” he called, leaving Tommy to look at the sun by himself._

_The pale blue sky bent to the yellow giant, burning red and a rosy pink where the two met. The sun reached out and the sky shied away and they looked like they were dancing…_

_A delicate hand tapped him on the shoulder._

_“Hey, bubba,” his mother said sweetly, “You ready to go?”_

_Tommy wanted to say no, to stay just a little bit longer, but he didn’t complain. He just took his mother’s hand and smiled up at her._

_He knew that they should have faces. Features, anything that labeled them as human. The problem was that they didn’t. There was just blankness where their faces should be, like it had all been scrubbed away by an eraser._

_It scared him._

_He dropped his mother’s hand and backed away quickly, shoes getting all scuffed from the gravel. She turned to him, and with what Tommy assumed would be a worried expression, she asked,_

_“Where are you going, Toms?”_

_His dad came into view, rushing over to his mother at the worry in her voice. His blanket face tilted up and Tommy knew that he was staring at him too. But, fear ran through his veins, causing him to back up further._

_“Tommy?” his father asked._

_“S-stay back…!” Tommy called, holding his hands in front of him._

_“Tommy, be careful dear…”_

_“Thomas, get back here!” his father yelled._

_“Tommy!” they screamed together._

_His foot slipped._

_Gravity wrapped him into its grasp, pulling the blond off the side of the cliff. His stomach plummeted and so did he, straight to the hungry waves below._

_He screamed._

_The wind swallowed the noise._

_“Tommy!”_

_“Tommy, it’s me!”_

“Tommy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o.0


	8. not pogchamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wilby n tomby get into fight
> 
> **TW/CW: physical violence & injury (no blood/gore)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter cuz these ones short

Tommy gasped loudly, eyes snapping open to find the figure of someone looming over him. He didn’t waste any time. Without a second thought, he panicked and blindly threw a punch. The groan told him that he hit his target. Tommy leaped out of bed and ran for the door, adrenaline demanding he move faster. 

Something caught his ankle and Tommy greeted the floor rather ungracefully.

“Fuck, let go of me,” he yelled.

He rolled over, throwing his elbow as he did so. His second attack was less successful as a hand grabbed his forearm and pinned it harshly to his side. A second hand has his other arm pinned a little too far away from his body and both his legs were being knelt on with his attacker’s full weight. 

Tommy strained, eyes flickering away from the door as he gasped and struggled against the hold. 

He looked off to find a not so happy Wilbur with a purple ring around his left eye holding him to the carpet floor. 

“What-?” Tommy asked.

“What the **fuck** was that for?!” the brunet practically screamed in his face.

Tommy began to struggle once more when the older pushed his arms into the floor a little harder. He would certainly have both rashes from the harsh fabric and bruises from where the skeletal man held his wrists so harsh. His struggle seemed useless, as it other served to further irritate an already very pissed off Wil. 

_Now is not the time to panic,_ he reprimanded when he felt his throat try to close, _Stay calm, you need to get out of this NOW_.

Tommy was sure the older was pinching his nerves from the way that his whole arms burned angrily.

He yelped and pulled with all his strength.

“Stop fucking MOVING!” Wilbur demanded, dark eyes burning the teen. 

“Go… AWAY!” he yelled back as the pain grew hotter.

The door to the room was flung open so hard that the teen was sure it would fall off the hinges. The loud boom caused both him and Wilbur to startle, but the brunet was the only one who could look up properly. 

“Wilbur, get _off_ of him!” 

The brunet jumped away from Tommy like he was made of molten lava. The weight that kept him down was gone as quick as it had come. Tommy coughed, unaware that he’d been holding his breath. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to get up. He was confused, dizzy, and worst of all, the white hot pain shot furiously through his arms as he pushed himself up. Though, the teen managed to get up without any vocal complaint.

Phil was standing in the doorway, eyes blazing like they were two stars. Tommy had yet to see that look on the blond man and he found that he really hated it. The anger was almost palpable as the blond man looked over the two, followed by a confused Techno behind him.

“Wilbur,” Phil said dangerously, carefully approaching the brunet in front of the window. 

Tommy quickly shuffled out of the way, eyes wide as he watched the man’s every move. Wil, however, didn’t seem that concerned as he just began to yell.

“Phil, TOMMY HIT ME! And you’re going to act like this is my fault?! What the fuck kind of logic-”

The man placed his hands on both of the other’s shoulders and Tommy was absolutely positive that he was going to see the slammed into the nearest wall. The thought made him flinch, it was a lot worse when the violence wasn’t focused on you.

“Relax,” Phil basically whispered.

Wilbur’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his dark pupils disappearing completely. His tense posture suddenly lost all of its anger, and for a brief second, it looked like Phil was the only thing keeping the brunet from the ground. His eyes fluttered shut and suddenly Wil was standing up straight again, all intensity that Tommy had seen from him moments previous was gone.

“Now, what happened?” Phil asked calmly.

“Tommy hit me when I shook him awake,” Wil replied, eyes gentle and slightly unfocused. 

The blond man in plaid pj pants and a long sleeve shirt suddenly turned to him.

Tommy frowned and watched Wil’s vision slowly come back into focus.

“He was crouched over me,” he muttered. 

“See, it was all just a misunderstanding,” Phil said, “Wilbur, apologize.”

“Sorry,” the brunet said with a soft bitterness.

“Tommy?”

The teen blanched and stuttered out something rather half assed.

“Yeah… uh, sorry…”

“Now that that’s all settled,” Phil told them, “Wil, let's get something on that bruise. Techno, show Tommy to the kitchen please?”

It was just him and the pinkette. 

“Breakfast’s ready,” Techno replied montonely.

Then he too was gone, leaving Tommy to stumble after him, his tired and throbbing body out the door, trying to keep up. 

_What a fucking morning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i PROMISE wilby n toms relationship gets better


	9. strange events and even stranger people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wilb has to take tommy to the mall to get some things. there’s some interesting people he meets there too.

Techno and Tommy sat in silence at the table, staring down in their plated and waiting for the other two. The teen was fiddling with the sleeves of the red hoodie that he may or may not have stolen off the coat hooks in the threshold. He really didn’t want Techno off all the people in this godforsaken house to see his new forming bruises. 

Techno cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

Tommy couldn’t help himself. He stopped fiddling with the gaze on his knuckles and a laugh bubbled in his throat and tore out without his permission. The strangest man in the house, after seeing the fight that the blond and Wil had gotten into, asked how he was?

“Sorry… sorry,” he gasped when Techno gave him an unimpressed glare, “I just… After all that, really man? You may be a scary bitch, but your social skills need some work.”

He got a chuckle from the man, which was definitely the most shocking part of the morning. 

“True,” he replied and they lapsed into a more comfortable silence.

Tommy shifted under the warm fabric, finding it hard to sit still with the adrenaline still fading from his system.

“That’s my sweater, by the way,” the pink haired man replied.

“Do you—?”

“Nope,” Techno replied, “Just thought you should know.”

 _Dick,_ Tommy thought. 

He was most _definitely not_ amused.

“Besides, you need something different to wear, even if Wil is taking you clothes shopping today.”

“What?” Tommy exclaimed, but their conversation was interrupted by another.

“Why do I have to take him?” Wilbur whined, voice falling down the stairs as footsteps did the same.

“Because, Techno and I have stuff to do today,” came Phil’s response. 

They both entire the kitchen, Wilbur scowling and Phil looking as calm as usual. Wil slumped into his seat, pouting and Phil just gave Tommy a nod as he sat across from the teen.

“My face is all fucked up,” Wil pointed out.

“It’ll be fine,” the blond man replied, already digging into his plate of eggs and toast, “Besides, it’s already healing.”

He was right, the ring that was a deep purple merely ten minutes ago had now turned a faded green at the edges inching inward. Whatever Phil put on it was really working. But pointing this out just made the brunet frown even further.

“Whatever,” he muttered, sitting up to hunch over his food.

Tommy’s stomach squeezed harshly at the thought of spending the day with the man he’d just punched the shit out of in another mall. He picked up his fork nonetheless, forcing as much food down as he could.

What an awful day it was going to be.

•••

Wilbur drove like an absolute lunatic. 

Tommy wasn’t even sure if the other knew what red lights and stop signs meant, as he managed to stop the car halfway into every intersection. Or, if they were behind someone, he’d be less than a foot from their bumper and up their ass the whole time the other car was in front of them.

Tommy did his best not have a heart attack when Wil pulled into the parking lot of this new mall at nearly full speed. 

“I’m going to fucking die,” he muttered, hand clasping his chest.

“You’re dramatic,” Wilbur snapped.

Not to mention his parking skills.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek, doing his best not to insult the way Wilbur managed to take up all three empty spaces they’d found. The brunet clicked the lock button, satisfied when the car beeped back at him twice. 

The way Wilbur walked was even more annoying than his driving. 

He was basically all legs, which made Tommy have to speed walk to keep up with the long bitch. He also had zero regard for the people around them, meaning it didn’t matter who was in their way, they’d had to move or get run over by the Tim Burton character that was Wilbur.

Tommy fucking hated him.

“Where’d you wanna go?” he asked but it wasn’t like he cared.

Tommy glanced around the bright mall. It too had a glass ceiling, but this time the whole thing let the sun in. He frowned, not one for shopping, he jabbed his thumb in the direction of the nearest clothes that looked like it sold clothes he’d wear. 

“I have Phil’s card, so it can’t be anything crazy,” the brunet told him.

“What kind of clothes do you think I wear?” Tommy complained.

“Nevermind, don’t answer that,” he replied when he saw the grin on Wil’s face.

And, he didn’t.

Which was uncharacteristically nice for the bitch who’d just pinned him to the ground less than thirty minutes ago.

“I’m gonna wait out here, just come find me when you’re done,” the brunet told him.

So, Tommy was left to wander a little store with no knowledge for what the fuck a 29/32 pant even meant? So, he just forgot about the pants in favor of looking at some plain tees whose sizes he did understand. He had three pairs of jeans from the orphanage that had lasted him three years already, surely they’d been fine.

“Hey, kid, you having trouble,” a feminine voice asked.

Tommy looked up to see a rather tall woman with purple hair watching him with a curious gaze. 

“Umm… I dunno?” he asked.

The woman snorted.

“I saw you glancin’ around the pants,” she replied amicably, “If the sizes confuse you, I can help.”

Tommy felt a smile creep onto his face at the woman’s accent.

“Sure, I’d like that, uh…”

He glanced at her name tag.

“...Minx?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” she affirmed with a grin.

“What kind of name is that?”

“Now listen here you little bitch—“

•••

After a rather humorous rant from Minx cursing Tommy out for making fun of her name, something that didn’t make the teen angry like it should have, the woman finally began helping the blond with his clothes. Maybe it was her accent or maybe it was the loud and frantic way she conducted herself, but it was quite entertaining. 

Eventually, Tommy had tried on more pants than he’d seen in his entire life and he’d finally found five that fit fine. A couple of sweatpants and a few blue jeans, as well as some shirts was what the teen piled onto the counter.

“Ready to pay?” Minx asked him.

“Give me one second, I gotta go get someone.”

Tommy sprinted out of the store and glanced around the crowded mall. His gaze suddenly fell on the familiar corpse-like face of Wil.

He was sitting at the bench of the little balcony, deeply engaged in a discussion with another brunet guy. Tommy sighed, not really in the mood to meet one of Wilbur’s friends but he needed Phil’s credit card.

“Hey, can I have the card?” Tommy asked, bluntly interrupting the two.

Wilbur looked up, amusement still dazzling his dark eyes. The other guy he was with looked up too, and Tommy hoped that it wasn’t obvious to him how uncomfortable the blond was. 

“You got what you need?” Wil asked, standing up.

“But… don’t you want to continue you’re…” Tommy cut himself off with a careless shrug.

“Schlatt, you comin’?” the brunet asked.

Tommy crinkled his nose, getting tired of everybody’s weird ass names. Schlatt hummed carefully, brown eyes dancing over the two of them.

“Who are you, kid?” the Schlatt guy asked the teen.

Wilbur answered for him.

“Phil adopted another kid.”

Schlatt smiled, an unsettling amusement dancing through his features.

“Another good ol’ foster brat. What’s your name?”

And he was standing too.

“Tommy,” the blond said, putting up an irritated front, “Can we hurry, Wil?”

“Sure, sure. Geez, relax,” the brunet told him.

And for some reason both Schlatt and Wil followed the teen back to the store. Minx popped up from behind the cash counter at the sound of people approaching, her smile that was directed at Tommy immediately turning into a scowl at the two accompanying him. 

“Heya, Minx,” the Schlatt guy drawled.

“Schlatt, Wilbur,” the purpled haired woman replied curtly, looking rather pissed, “What are you fuckers doing in my store?”

“I’m Phil’s new kid,” the teen muttered, eager to go back home.

“You’re Wil’s brother? I never would have guessed,” she laughed.

Both Tommy and Wil frowned at the word brother.

“He’s not my brother,” the brunet shot back, swiping the card through the reader.

Minx looked up from the computer screen with a scowl creasing her lips. With speed that Tommy barely caught, she punched Wilbur straight in the shoulder. The brunet’s hand flew to the injured spot and it sounded like he hissed in pain.

Tommy felt his jaw fall open.

“Did you do that to his eye, uh…”

“Tommy,” the blond offered, grabbing the plastic bag that held his new clothes from her, “And, yeah, I did.”

“Good on ya, Tommy,” Minx replied with a cheery smile, completely unaware of the venomous expression Wil wore as she went back around the counter.

Schlatt stopped her.

“Minx, when are you gonna give up,” he asked with a false innocence, “Just date me.”

“I’d never date an ugly cunt like you,” she snapped back, pushing the strange man out of her way, “You’re a fucking sleaze.”

 _She’s cool_ , Tommy thought subconsciously as he watched her try to get back to work.

“And, Tommy, one more thing,” Minx relied, glancing over her shoulder, “Never let Schlatt sell you weed.”

“Or a gun,” Wilbur interjected, sounding too happy for a man who’d been beat up twice in one morning.

Schlatt just shrugged, a smirk still ever present on his face.

Tommy was left speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /schlatt/
> 
> ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵃʸ
> 
> (ayyyoo, epicsmp reference 😳)


	10. dudududu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy meets the track team

Everyone acted _weird_ , everyone had a weird name and nobody seemed to care! Tommy had no idea what to do with any of that information, but it sat heavy in the back of his mind. 

_“You won’t make this harder on Phil.”_

Wilbur was no exception.

“We’re going to the school,” was what Wil told him, and no matter how much Tommy continued to complain, he didn’t turn around to familiar streets. 

“It’s fucking Sunday, why do we have to go?” Tommy whined.

“We’re gonna meet some of my friends.”

Tommy groaned, and slumped further in the seat.

“Why, you wanna get beat up some more?”

Dark eyes flickered down to sear him before instantly returning to the road.

“Minx and Schlatt are my friends,” the brunet replied, “I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

The teen just crossed his arms and rested his head on the cold sill of the car window, staring at the trees around them.

“You have shit friends,” he mumbled, “‘sept for Minx, I like her.”

Wilbur didn’t respond, so he just continued to watch the world pass. Tommy really wished he’d brought his MP3, realizing that he’d left it in the backpack he’d never gotten around to unpacking. He just scowled harder, ignoring the empty silence (Wilbur wasn’t playing any music and Tommy wasn’t about to ask.)

Wilbur spoke up again after what felt like a million years.

“We’re going to meet some of the people on the track team,” he said, “Clay, who’s the captain, is my friend and maybe he’ll tell something about the team.”

“Is he fast?” Tommy asked, not really caring for an answer.

He could feel Wil glance over him, like he was trying to decode a puzzle.

“He’s the fastest at school, no one’s ever beaten him. Besides, he and the team do a thing called manhunts, which is interesting,” Wilbur frowned, “If you’re thinking about trying to run, don’t. You won’t make it far.”

“Bet,” Tommy immediately replied, suddenly a little more excited.

“Tommy,” Wil warned, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little further.

The teen huffed.

“Fine, what _ever_.”

•••

The chain link fence rattling behind him told Tommy that his pursuers were hot on his tail. He wasn’t sure about the neighborhood around the high school, but if he had to guess, he hoped that it would probably be another suburb.

The faster he ran, the colder the wind felt as it whipped past him. Tommy couldn’t keep a grin off his as he ran straight into a barren street and made a quick dash down it. The pavement and gravel crunched beneath his sneakers and the sound of other footfalls and panting made him run a little faster. 

His lungs burned but the adrenaline coursing through him made up for the pain. Tommy felt his spirits soar when the forest gave way to some houses further up the lane. He’d been right, and hopefully one of the houses had a garage roof he could climb.

Tommy was actually enjoying himself.

It all came to a swift end. 

Because Clay, the meatwall of a person that the man was, grabbed onto his shoulder from behind, yanking him back. It nearly made Tommy stumble over himself, but another hand just grabbed his bicep and rattled the teen a little. 

A raven haired kid and another brunet guy were right behind the jacked dirty blond. The two came to a halt, panting to catch their breaths.

“Got him,” Clay told them, sounding breathless himself. 

Tommy coughed as his chest seized, trying to relax his own breathing. At least Clay had the decency not to fucking tackle him, so that was something.

Another two other guys finally joined them as Wilbur pulled up the rear. Through gasps for air, the brunet glared furiously down at Tommy, who had finally caught his breath and was starting to become bothered with the hands that still held him in place.

“To—mmy…” Wilbur took a deep breath, “What the FUCK did I say?!”

“Can’t believe you thought that was actually going to listen to you,” Tommy sniffed, “You can let go off me, by the way.”

Clay just grinned, dropping his restricting grip. Tommy immediately put distance between them and couldn’t help but think of the other like a dog when he smiled at his friends.

“He’s British like you, George,” the man told the brunet with the teal shirt who just frowned.

“I have ears,” the indeed British brunet snapped back. 

Tommy rolled his eyes because he sounded like Wilbur. 

“Do you?” the raven haired boy asked, in a tone the reeked with sarcasm.

“Shut up, Nick,” George just replied. 

“Well, this was fucking stupid,” Tommy said loudly, “You’re all so slow.”

“Language,” the kid in the black hoodie replied.

Tommy just shot him a confused look. 

“That’s Bad,” Nick told him with a grin, “He doesn’t like swearing, but he’s the most dangerous one.”

Bad shook his head frantically.

“No! Don’t tell him that,” he replied, turning his attention to Tommy, “I’m Bad and I’m probably the nicest one here.”

That comment got a bunch of protests. Tommy was glad he took off when they’d first noticed him and Wilbur, not really the kind for such a group.

Tommy just hummed, feeling exhaustion from the aftermath of the chase settling into his already aching body. The great thing about running, in his opinion, was that it took your mind off of everything else.

He ignored the way his wrists throbbed at that thought.

“So, he wants to join the track team?” Clay asked, looking to Wilbur who was fiddling with his wind tossed hair.

“Yeah,” Wil replied for him, “What do you think?”

Clay looked back to the group of four guys who all nodded with varying degrees of apathy. Tommy felt his blood boil, but he just kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah, sounds like he’ll be a good addition once the season starts,” Clay replied, smiling at the brunet.

“Maybe he could even join the manhunts,” the kid who’d said nothing up until then said, causing the rest of the jocks to grin.

“What even is that?” Tommy sighed, exasperated.

The kid with cat-like features shrugged, gesturing to the street around them. 

“Basically what happened here,” he replied, “But we all try to catch Clay.”

“Yeah, Antfrost’s right,” Nick butted in, “With a kid like you, we’d probably stand a better chance!”

George just folded his arms in, like he couldn’t imagine Tommy joining them. A gesture which the teen saw and wished he could hit him for. 

“Can’t believe we have to walk all the way back,” Wilbur groaned, snatching Tommy by his very bruised wrists and beginning to walk the way they'd come. 

If it didn’t hurt so badly, the teen would have snatched his hand back, but the movement would have probably caused him to wince, so he just let the brunet drag him along as he tried not shout or cry whenever he lagged a little too far behind. 

He also did his best to push down the maggots that squirmed in his stomach as the touch, even if it was through his clothes, prickled every skin cell in his arm.

_Just don’t throw up._

“I was right, your friends suck,” Tommy muttered when the brick building off the school came into view. 

Wilbur said nothing, just picking up the pace.

•••

When they got home after an extremely tense car ride, Tommy made a beeline straight for his room, ignoring the jovial greetings from Phil who was in the kitchen. Spending his whole day with the brunet who so clearly hated him had taken a toll on the teen. Not to mention the way his wrists now throbbed anytime he went to move his hands at all.

Tommy swung the door behind him, but it stopped midway only to be opened again. The teen spun around and glowered.

“Fuck off,” he snapped as Wilbur did the exact opposite. 

This motherfucker just got into his personal space, towering over the tired and pissed of blond once more. The dim light of the room made the dark circles around his eyes darker, making him look as dead as those in the graveyard a few blocks down. He black eyes burned and Tommy found he was getting sick of this shit.

“Listen to me, and listen to me well, Tommy,” he began, voice low, “You aren’t a fucking basket case and you aren’t special. The world doesn’t revolve around you and your fucked up life, ok? I’d **really preferred** that you stop acting like it because it doesn’t matter.”

And then Wilbur was gone with the slam of a door, leaving those words bouncing around the stunned teen skull. 

What surprised him the most was that he was _crying_. Crying over something that he already knew, so what was the big fucking deal? Maybe it was those words actually being said aloud that made them real, so real that they flayed his heart but the teen didn’t give it much thought. Tommy just fell onto his made bed (something that he didn’t remember doing) and stared up at the blank ceiling. 

He’d mastered the art of silent crying a long time ago, letting the sobs shake his thin frame while keeping all indication that he was upset from the real world.

There was a gentle knock on his door, followed by something being slipped between the crack under the door. Tommy took a deep breath, doing his best to push away the tears as he got up to investigate. 

It was a note, written in pen on a napkin and it read,

_Wilbur’s down here pouting, if he said something to you, you can always tell me about it! Dinner’s ready, if you want but I’m gonna put the leftovers in the fridge. Make sure you get some later.  
:)_

The note just made him tear up more. 

Tommy aimed the soft paper for the trashcan.

It landed on the edge of the desk right above the bin.

He just left it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey ho, it’s me again! i might end up not posting on either saturday or sunday cuz i have work both days. so if nothing comes on one of those days, that’s why :D
> 
> hope you’re all well and stay safe! <33


	11. first day of school

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy goes to school & meets more than few new faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine’s day if you care
> 
> and happy sunday if you don’t :)

_The voices are so loud, they shout and scream words that Tommy can’t make out. It didn’t even sound like English the way that they interrupted and overlapped one another._

_His head pounded and even though he couldn’t see anything, he still spun on his heels, trying to catch a glimpse of who was making those ungodly sounds._

_The cacophony of screams started to morph, their words becoming more and more easy to understand. The strange sounds that Tommy could barely recognize, turned into words that chilled him straight to the bone._

_“Blood for the Blood God…”_

_“Blood for the Blood **GOD** …!”_

_“ **B L O O D…** ”_

_“ **BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!**_ ”

•••

Tommy woke to someone a soft rapture upon his door followed by the call for breakfast. He had a splitting headache and the distinct feeling of dread swirling in his stomach, so he brushed it off. It was probably because he’d fallen asleep, so exhausted from last night, he just never grabbed any of the food that Phil had left for him. 

Yeah, that was why.

It was Monday, and Tommy would actually have to go to school. He peeled off the red hoodie that he’d stolen and frowned at the sight before him.

Deep purple, almost black finger marks wrapped their way viciously around his pallid skin. They looked like they were indents, missing pieces of skin that someone had torn from him. Tommy scowled, pulling his gray hoodie from his backpack and slipping it on. The fabric held nothing but a worn off swoosh mark and hung off of his thin frame a little awkwardly, but it would have to do. 

He changed his jeans and underwear, (Phil’d given him some old ones and promised they’d go back to the mall on Friday. Tommy was just mad that he had to go back there), and lumbered out of his room with the enthusiasm of a dead guy.

He made his way down the stairs and to the back of the house with a pout as he slinked into his dining table seat. There was a bowl of porridge waiting for him, a small steam of heat wafting off of it. Wilbur had almost finished his already and Phil and Techno seemed to be just starting.

“Techno’s right, you eat horribly,” Tommy told the older, fighting a smile at the amused look Phil cast and the nodding from Techno.

He was still upset about last night.

“Agreed,” the pink haired man replied and Tommy almost thought he saw the older smile. 

“It’s only my second bowl,” Wilbur snapped as he got up and crossed into the kitchen behind Tommy.

“Does he not have a metabolism?” the teen asked Phil.

The older man just laughed.

“That’s just Wil,” he responded good naturedly. 

Tommy huffed and went back to furiously trying to cool his spoonful of warm, soggy oats as the whine of the kettle could be heard boiling water.

It was way too early in the morning, but the residual dread that Tommy had woken up with had begun to fade. The sun began to peek out, washing some of the gray morning away. Sure, the teen hated school but there was the most miniscule part of him that was… ok with meeting other people from this town that he’d barely lived in.

He almost ate all of the bowl without feeling the need to throw up. 

Tommy frowned when Phil got up and took his bowl away too, the protest “I can do my own dishes” right on the tip of his tongue. He just gets up instead, alone in the well decorated dining room (Wilbur was upstairs, probably in the shower by the noise from the clicking of the pipes in the walls and Techno had left out the back door after muttering something to Phil).

He felt disgusted by the guilt that swelled up when Phil re-entered, a smile on his face and something in one hand.

“Here.”

It was a phone. Tommy shook his head, but when he went to hand it back, the man just held out his palm.

“That’s for you. You can download whatever you want on it, but I want to make sure you have a way to call me whenever you need to,” the man explained gently. 

“Bullshit.”

The word was out of his mouth before the teen could even think about it. His eyes went wide and he waited to see Phil’s soft expression melt into something more dangerous. The back door was just a room over, he could make it to the kitchen before the man even knew what was happening.

But, all that occurred was Phil’s blue eyes taking on a more concerned light and his smile faded slightly. But he didn’t look mad.

The teen didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

“Why’s that?”

Tommy was embarrassed, ears flaming red as he chewed on his bottom lip. But he’d cornered himself on this one to reluctantly explaining himself.

“You can just say you wanna track me...”

“But I don’t,” Phil responded simply, “The parental locks aren’t even on, Tommy. I mean it, do what you want with the phone. I just want you to be able to call me. Now, go get ready, the bus will be here soon.”

Tommy was genuinely impressed by how guilty Phil managed to make him feel for just existing. He tucked the phone in his back pocket where it sat too heavy.

It’s not his fault, though, a small voice spoke up as he trudged up the stairs. 

He nearly collided with Wilbur, who was coming out of the bathroom. Tommy stopped the instant he saw a flash of amber and looked up to see a scowling Wil, who’s hair looked oddly dry for someone who’d just taken a shower.

“Watch it, idiot,” was all the blond got. 

Tommy flipped off the door that slammed seconds later and continued getting ready for what he could only imagine was going to be a horrible day.

•••

The bus smelled like gasoline, body odor and a sweet sort of candy flavour that hung heavily in the stifling air. Wilbur, of course, promptly got on first right after hissing in Tommy’s direction a “Don’t you dare sit with me.” And Tommy, the ever so kind gentleman that he was, ignored the brunet in favour of pushing him sharply under the guise of slipping up the stairs. 

It also gave him a small amount of comfort knowing that the black eye he’d given the older hadn’t totally faded. It was still a little green and pale yellow, just enough to be visible.

Not like he wanted to sit with the older anyway, he was most definitely going to sit with some of his god awful friends in the back and the teen wanted no part of that. 

He didn’t hear the bus driver’s greeting and flung himself into the empty seat by the emergency door. The volume on his MP3 was now all the way up and Tommy couldn’t care less if the kids around him could hear the music too, he just didn’t want to hear them.

The cold morning sped past the yellow bus, looking as bland as one could imagine a small town to look. Tommy was already bored just watching it… how boring did you have to be as a person to like a place where nothing every fucking happened? What-

Tommy sat stock straight, eyes following something that was already gone. He was almost certain he saw something… unsettling whip past them out of the corner of his eye. The teen had no idea what this thing was supposed to be, all he knew was that the dread that he’d woken up was very much back. 

_Not only is this town boring, it’s fucking weirdo central too_ , he bemoaned, slumping back down.

The bus halted, waiting for other kids to get on. Tommy wasn’t really aware of it until another person full body slammed into his side. He snatched his headphones out instantly, ready to murder who ever had done that when he was faced with a bright smile and cheerful kid sitting next to him.

“Hi, I haven’t seen you around here,” the smaller kid chirped cheerfully. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Tommy demanded as his grip on his MP3 got uncomfortably tight.

“I’m Tubbo or Toby,” the brunet replied, seeming unaware of fury that Tommy was clearly trying to restrain, “If you’re Tommy, I’ll be one of your guides today!”

He didn’t care enough to ask why the kid was called Tubbo.

 _He has an accent also_ , Tommy noticed.

When he went to school back in Washington, his accent usually didn’t help his case. It often had the opposite effect, causing the other kids to ignore him outright or just make fun of him for it. Which was stupid, he didn’t even remember living in Britian, much less how he even got to America. 

He pushed the thoughts away.

“Well, I am, but I don’t need your fucking help,” the teen told the pratically vibrating kid next to him (seriously, who the fuck had this much energy so early?)

“Well, do you know where any of your classes are?” Tubbo asked, brown eyes shining. 

Tommy paused.

“You don’t even have your schedule, do you?”

•••

Tubbo hopped off the bus, Tommy trailing with a scowl on his face as a flood of kids from a few other buses joined them. It certainly wasn’t the biggest school he’d seen, but the sight of the brick building didn’t exactly fill him with confidence.

“Hey, what does Gravity Falls mean?” he asked, frowning up at the sign above the three sets of double glass doors.

The short brunet stared up him with a look of disbelief.

“Wot?” he asked, quick to jump on the defensive.

“That’s the name of the town,” Tubbo replied, “Did you really not know the name of the place you live in?”

“So what if I didn’t, bitch,” the teen replied sharply.

And the smaller just _giggled_. 

“Let’s just go get your schedule from the main office.”

Tommy had no choice but to follow or he would use the tiny brunet in the crowd of students. 

And he still lost him.

 _How is he such a slipper fucker?,_ he complained, looking around the flood of unfamiliar faces.

Growing frustrated, Tommy just decided to cut his losses and join the wave of kids going dutifully to school. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know any of his classes, now he just had an excuse to skip the whole day. He was most definitely not doing any of the homework, so why even pretend?

His plan didn’t go exactly to plan.

The second he was in the main hall, another kid spotted him and started heading his way. Tommy groaned internally at the smile on the others face as he approached him.

“Hey, you must be Tommy. My name’s Sam,” the tall kid said, sticking his hand out.

The teen just frowned at the extended hand, crossing his arms with a blank look plastered to his face. This didn’t dampen Sam’s mood, he didn’t even seem to care. He just dropped his hand back to his side and went on talking.

“I’ll be a guide of yours today,” he continued, looking around, “I don’t know where Tubbo is…”

“Here,” the other said, appearing by Tommy’s side with a piece of paper in hand.

Tubbo offered it to the blond, who debated whether he wanted to take it before ultimately giving in. He snatched the paper away from the smiling brunet and merely glanced over his classes.

“Tommy didn’t have a schedule,” the brunet explained to Sam, who just nodded understandingly. 

All the pleasantries and good attitudes were going to make Tommy sick.

“That’s ok,” he replied, and they both turned back to the disinterested teen, “We’re going to show you where all your classes are, so you’re going to be late to your first class.”

“Please, take all the time you need,” the blond replied blankly, shoving the poorly flooded schedule into his pocket with his phone, “I don’t want to be here anyway.”

And they smiled and laughed.

Tommy really wished he was back home, pissing off Wilbur because he didn’t think he could do this today.

•••

They were only halfway into showing him around when a dog just came down the now vacant halls, barreling towards them at full speed. Tommy yelped indignantly when it brushed past him and started circling around the tall guy, Sam.

“Why is that mutt here?” Tommy asked Tubbo, who looked like he was struggling to read the map he was holding upside down.

The brunet looked up and over to where the animal was sitting by Sam, staring up at the expectantly. He hummed.

“You mean Fran?” he asked, “That’s Sam’s service dog.”

“What does that mean?” the blond muttered, watching Sam put a little vest on the dog.

“It means it helps him.”

“With what?” Tommy pushed.

Tubbo frowned for the first time that day.

“That’s not for me to answer.”

And they just lapsed into silence. Tommy was confused, he wasn’t sure what a service dog was nor was he particularly fond of pets but Sam was smiling so big that it looked like it hurt. So, it must not have been that bad.

“You know that map is upside down, right?” he asked the still struggling brunet.

“I thought it looked funny,” the other commented lightly and turned the paper the right way around.

But they still didn’t move on.

“What’s taking so long?” 

“Stop being impatient, bitch. I have dyslexia,” Tubbo snapped, but it didn’t sound like there was any real heat behind his words. 

Tommy was almost surprised that this walking talking personification of the word happiness knew any curse words.

“I didn’t think that happened with pictures!” he replied defensively.

He didn’t feel bad.

(Maybe just a little.)

“You need help, Tubbo?” Sam asked, finally rejoining the other two.

The golden furred dog with a bright vest that said “service dog” trailed behind him with quick and meaningful strides. It was no longer bounding around, in fact, the animal seemed almost… serious. Tommy definitely didn’t feel comfortable about asking the guy he just met what was up with the dog that was apparently important to him so he just let his gaze wander down the locker lined hall.

“Yeah, we gotta go to the English room.”

“No problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tub & sam pog :D lord knows c!tommy needs his support network 
> 
> also fran!!! i love fran


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> school never ends well, does it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW/CW: weed/implied drug use**

Lunch couldn’t have come fast enough. After Tubbo and Sam had shown him around and showed him his locker, which Tommy doubted he would use, the first bell had already rung. It meant that he’d missed maths, which was more than fine by the teen and he jumped straight into history class (which Tubbo was in too.)

The blond left English alone, heading to the cafe with his headphones back in again. He and the small brunet who seemed to cling to him had many classes together, they were in the same year after all and a small part of the teen hoped to see the other in the cafeteria. 

The cafe’s far wall was lined with windows and circular tables with benches attached crowded around the large room. Many other people had beaten Tommy there and they were laughing and chatter vigorously amongst each other. The blond looked for an empty table and he quickly found one towards the back of the room.

He made a beeline for that table, passing a spot where Clay and his pose were sitting. They waved him over, but Tommy just shook his head and gave them a force smile. He really rather not sit with them, he wasn’t one to put up with the absolute jock way they teased and fought with each other.

Tommy even passed a table where Wilbur was sitting. The brunet paid him no mind, not that the teen was interested in getting his attention. What was interesting to him was the way that the group around the other was acting. When Wil was talking, they looked like they were hanging off every word, devoted to whatever words that he was saying. They laughed actively and Wilbur smiled like he was enjoying every second. He had no idea what those people found so interesting or funny, the man was just a dick. 

A hand tugged on the sleeve of his sweater.

And much to the teen’s discomfort, the grip stopped him in front of Wil’s table. Tommy felt some of his nerves jump, but he shoved it away and turned around.

“Hey, Minx,” he muttered to the woman smiling at him.

“Tommy, how are ya?” she asked genuinely, seemingly unaware of the fact that the entire table's eyes were on them.

“Fine,” he replied, but he didn’t take up a tone with the fiery woman.

Though, he could definitely beat her ass in a fight. Not that he encouraged hitting women, he loved women, but he could beat up anyone, no matter who they were.

“Wanna sit with us?” Minx questioned, hand falling back onto the bench below her.

Tommy looked up at the table. Besides Wilbur, there was the Schlatt, the guy with the moustache and strange beard that didn’t connect at his chin, Minx, another girl with pink hair was sat next to her and another guy with ginger hair that held a few streaks throughout. Wilbur and Schlatt didn’t say anything but they watched him with amusement held in their gazes. The pink haired girl was smiling kindly, looking overly friendly, and the ginger held no vested interest towards Tommy one way or the other. 

Tommy didn’t necessarily want to sit with these people, but he also didn’t want to disappoint Minx. Though, he wasn’t sure that was enough to voluntarily hang out with the grinning brunet.

“Uh- well…”

There was a familiar nudge to his side.

Tubbo walked past the blond, a hearty grin and a playful look in his eyes. He was carrying a tray with a carton, presumably with whatever meal the school had failed to make today. Tommy frowned, but there wasn’t his usual emotion behind it. 

“I think I’m gonna go sit with Tubbo,” he said, forcing a regretful smile, “So…”

Minx just rolled her eyes and waved him off. 

“Go on, ya baby.”

But she was also grinning.

Tommy nodded.

“What’s up, bitch?” Tommy asked as he sat across from the petite brunet in an oversized, green button up.

The other just shot the teen a grin, pulling out a laptop from his computer. The gray surface was covered in clusters of stickers, all bright and colorful. And now that Tommy actually looked, he noticed that the olive pack had patches and pins across the fabric.

“Do… you like bees?” Tommy asked, sensing the common theme with the pins and patches, most of them being of the fluffy yellow and black insect.

“What gave it away?” Tubbo asked sarcastically.

“Dunno, I guess I’m just brilliant like that,” he responded simply.

He got a gentle laugh for his efforts.

“You missed first period, right?” Tubbo asked after a beat of silence.

“Yeah,” Tommy hummed, watching the brunet eat the soggy looking sandwich with a vague feeling of disgust, “It’s fine, though.”

“Nonsense. I’ll get you the work after school, it’s my last period!”

Something told Tommy that the kid would immediately launch into a lecture if the blond told him he planned not to do the homework, so he just went with it.

“Oh, well… that’s nice, man.”

“Yeah, I’m the best,” Tubbo retorted with a false confidence that made Tommy snort. 

“What, don’t believe me?”

Tommy shook his head rapidly, a smile dancing on his lips.

“No, no, never! It may sound like I was laughing, but I wasn’t,” he teased back.

“Good,” Tubbo said.

They fell into another lapse of silence, something that usually made the teen uncomfortable. Yet, there was a kind of lightness in the air, and it hung kindly as they let the other people around them do the talking. A soft sweetness washed away any of the constant anger that the blond felt, ebbing at the fire with a gentle wave.

And he didn’t even feel afraid for the other shoe to drop.

Tommy didn't understand how this five foot and sickly friendly brunet who had an affinity for bees of all things was… interesting? Someone who the blond felt like he could trust almost immediately, which went against every lesson he’d learned over the years. It made him— afraid— but at the same time, it was nice. 

Tubbo was kinda like Phil in that regard.

Tommy didn’t need a support network, he was completely fine on his own.

But, he didn’t really find himself complaining.

•••

Just as he promised, Tubbo found Tommy in the main foyer as the day had ended. The blond had totally forgotten about the arrangement, but he took the sheet of homework with an appreciative hum.

“What’cha waiting for?” the brunet asked him as Tommy’s eyes flicked around.

“Uh… Wilbur,” Tommy reluctantly admitted.

“Oh!” Tubbo exclaimed, confusion quickly passing over his brown eyes, “You mean the senior, Wilbur Watson?”

The other suddenly recalled David calling Phil “Mr. Watson.” 

“Yeah, the real dickhead who looks like Jack Skellington, that’s him.”

Tubbo frowned, looking slightly distrubed by Tommy’s language as his eye sparkled with a faint confusion.

“Don’t be rude, man,” the brunet replied, glancing around the slowly emptying halls as if he were afraid that Wilbur would pop out of thin air.

“It’s not rude if it’s just true,” he countered, growing impatient with the waiting.

Techno had texted Tommy during the last period, telling the blond to make sure he saw Wilbur get on the bus. It was a request from Phil and though Tommy had no idea why the older man cared, he was still standing around for the brunet. He may or may not have skipped his last period (chemistry), spending the time hiding in a stuffy stall, which gave him a heads up on the rest of the school.

Tubbo still looked displeased, shifting his weight from side to side but he kept quiet. The crowd had not gone and there were only a few people who had passed the two in the last couple minutes.

“Tommy, the bus is about to leave,” the brunet warned, eyes falling on the doors behind them.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek, weighing his options.

He sighed. 

“Go on ahead, it’s ok.”

“You sure?”

He nodded, giving the other a halfhearted smile. 

“Ok… see ya tomorrow then…”

Tommy can see the reluctant way Tubbo peeled away from him, concern sketched into his features. 

_Clingy_ , his mind supplied, tone dripping with a kind of venom.

It made him frown. 

_This is why you can’t have nice things._

The loud rumbling could be heard from the inside of the school, and Tommy felt his stomach drop. Anything good that happened that day was suddenly replaced with a intense fury blazing under his ribs.

And Wilbur has the audacity to waltz around the corner right then.

The older was grinning like a dolt, the smile a little too wobbly to be normal. His eyes shone gently and he walked at a leisurely pace, like he hadn’t a care in the world. He was so uncaring that it only made Tommy more upset.

“Hey, Tommy, what’re you doing?” the older asked and his smile reached into his tone. 

“Where were you?” Tommy asked, trying his best to keep his voice down.

Wil frowned, looking more dizzy than confused when he did so.

“What do you mean? I’m right here!”

“The buses have left, Wilbur,” he shot back.

The brunet giggled and gave Tommy a funny look.

“That just means we’re walking home,” he replied happily, “Come on.”

“It’s a fucking twenty minute walk!”

But, Wilbur was already pushing open the heavy doors with the dull click off the handle bars. 

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Tommy yelled.

He stomped after Wil.

•••

 _One of us isn’t making it out this walk alive_ , Tommy threatened as most of his thoughts were hazy with rage.

Wilbur seemed oblivious to the storm clouds surrounding the blond, merely whistling a nerve grating tune as they made their way through the little town centre. They passed an ancient looking arcade and an oddly loggy diner that Tommy would have probably found cool if he weren’t holding himself back from taking the older’s head clean off. The oblivious way that Wilbur smiled back at him every so often was really not helping the situation. 

_I fucking hate him,_ he thought for the millionth time that afternoon.

The sun was filtering gently through the leaves of the trees that began where the centre stopped. It was warm for a late summer afternoon and Tommy wished that he was able to wear short sleeves. It was torture but at least he wouldn’t forget to search for that healing cream when he finally got home. 

Tommy was pissed, absolutely at his wits end following the maniac that lived in the same house as him when something crunched under his sneakers and caused him to stop.

Beneath his shoe was a small plastic bag laying innocently on the gray of the pavement. When he picked it up, Tommy froze.

He could recognize that smell anywhere.

“Wilbur?” Tommy called, finally getting the older’s true attention.

“What is it, Tommy?” Wilbur asked, eyebrows all scrunched up as he did his best concerned impression.

“What’s this?” he questioned, widening his eyes in mock ignorance.

The twinkling in Wil’s eyes was washed out immediately, and his gaze shifted into a steely look. Gone was the carefree whistling, the constant smiling and the too relaxed nature. It was all replaced with a look that was extremely familiar.

“Hand it back,” the brunet demanded calmly, holding a hand out expectantly.

Tommy pretended to consider.

“Wilbur, I know that this is weed,” he informed the man, shaking the bag with the herb inside, “It smells like shit.”

His face fell into a harsh scowl.

“Weed is legal in Oregon. Give it here.”

“Ah!” Tommy exclaimed, the word short and staccatoed, “It’s legal if you’re twenty one, and Wil, I’m not sure if you know this, but you’re only eighteen!”

“Why do you know that, Tommy,” Wilbur questioned back sweetly.

“Google is a thing, y’know.”

Wilbur scowled furiously.

A beat of terse silence, so thick that Tommy hoped it was suffocating the brunet.

“What would Phil say?” he questioned curiously.

At the mention of the man’s name, Wilbur’s eyes went wide and his look changed from “I’ll stab you with a knife” to “Wait, don’t.”

Tommy smirked.

“We’ll have to see, won’t we?” the teen hummed with joy, pocketing the little bag in his jeans.

“Tommy,” Wilbur began and by the way the vein in his neck jumped, it was obvious he was struggling to keep calm, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You’re just a stupid child who I dispise, by the way, and you don’t have the **guts** -”

 _Why the fuck am I taking this?_ He mused, grin stretching, _I’ve got the upper hand anyways_.

So, he merely brushed past the brunet (who was still going on), and began to make his own way home. 

“Hey-! Where are you going!” Wilbur shouted as he continued.

Tommy just shrugged.

He doesn’t get two more steps before a strong grip yanked on the back of his shirt collar. Air was quickly and suddenly cut off causing Tommy to gasp. All his momentum was now pulled backwards and the hand kept him firmly in place. 

“Don’t butt your way into things you know nothing about,” Wilbur growled lowly.

He snatched the baggie full of weed straight from the teen’s back pocket.

“You-! I can’t believe you made us fucking late because you wanted to fucking _smoke_ ,” Tommy shouted after him.

No response. 

He wanted to scream.

•••

Wilbur stormed off to his room whereas Tommy found Techno in the kitchen, trying to make something on the stove that resembled spaghetti. 

“Techno, did you know Wilbur smokes?” he asked, watching the pinkette stab into the top of the ground beef container with a steak knife. 

“Yeah,” he affirmed, low monotone making him sound unimpressed, “I can smell it every time I get too close to the pantry.”

“How does Phil not know?”

Tommy noticed the quick beat off nothing as Techno’s red eyes flick down to observe him.

“He’s old.”

“Ahhhhh,” the teen hummed knowingly, “His nose is going all blind n shit!”

“Tommy... no? I— forget it.”

It was the first dinner that Tommy ended up participating in since he was adopted. Phil came home later to find the teen frantically trying to stop the pot of water from boiling over and Wilbur screaming at Techno, who had dropped some half cooked beef onto the counter well messily trying to mix it and insisted that it was still good. He had eaten it just to prove his point.

“Okayyy, what the fuck is going on here?”

“PHIL! Tell Techno that eating the raw beef he dropped was unsanitary!”

“I’m _fine_ , don’t worry about it. Salmonella is afraid of me.”

“Hey, guys…? How the fuck do you turn off the stove?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really have made no writing progress & i probably shouldn’t post this
> 
> oh no... anyways 🙀✌️😼👀


	13. lucky number thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy meets a few more people, makes a few more connections, but things only grow stranger...
> 
> **TW/CW: weapons mentioned (knives)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last time i’ll use the mall as a plot device

Besides the weed fiasco, the rest of Tommy’s general week was pretty normal. School was whatever, but when Tubbo found out he hadn’t done any of his homework from Monday, the brunet, with the help of Sam, would make sure he’d gotten most of it at least attempted. Sam, who had two free periods back to back and would usually leave for that hour and half, showed up to the cafe to help Tommy out since he was older than the both of them. It also gave Tubbo time to start his own homework. 

It was Friday, and the three were doing just that. Sam was doing his best to explain maths and factoring while Tubbo completed a moon cycle project for his astronomy class.

“Guys, did you know that there’s gonna be a full moon tonight?” he asked happily, spreading glitter glue on the full moon picture. 

“Who gives a shit?” Tommy mumbled under his breath, upset with the swimming numbers in front of him and the tingling in his hands and lower arms.

He had indeed found the ointment that Phil had but on his bloodied knuckle and though it certainly did help the pain a little bit, it did nowhere near as much as what it did for Wilbur (his black eye’d been completely gone by Tuesday, which was a shame, really.)

The smaller just flicked him with a pencil from across the table while Sam did his best not to laugh. 

“So, do you understand factoring better now?” the older asked.

Tommy shrugged.

“I mean, I guess…”

“Awesome, Tommy!”

The taller man raised his hand and Tommy’s gaze snapped to the limb as it hovered in the air. His heart began to beat quicker as he braced himself.

“Can I touch you?” Sam asked, so softly the teen almost missed it over the pounding in his ears.

“Umm… if you want to,” he replied, looking to the ground.

Why was he asking? Nobody ever gave him a choice. 

The older man frowned, his hand returning back to the table surface as his green eyes filled with concern.

“It’s not about what I want,” he explained, “It’s about what _you_ want.”

Tommy looked back, confused. His gaze found Tubbo’s, the brunet’s comfort not that far away.

“It’s okay to have boundaries, y’know,” the brunet said kindly, which Sam hummed in agreement to.

“Oh well… then, don’t—?” he said, fiddling with his hands, “My bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sam replied, brightening with a grin, “Thanks for telling me!”

The rest of the period went by smoothly and Tommy found himself placated by the jokes and brightness of the two at his table. It was unlike anything the teen had ever known and he wasn’t even sure if he liked it but… the two had shoved their way into the other’s life and that was a fact. 

Tommy’s eyes wandered to Fran, sitting dutifully at her place by Sam’s side. 

_Having boundaries was pretty neat._

•••

Phil sent him a text that let Tommy know he was at the school. The blond sighed, shutting his phone off and replacing it with his MP3 music. They had to go back to the mall, but Tommy had complained and made sure to tell Phil to get everything now because he didn’t want to go back. He believed the exact wording was “I rather be attacked in a dark alleyway and nearly murdered past 9 pm PST than go back to the mall.”

Phil swore that this would be the last time for a while.

The tan car was easy to spot against the dreary weather and Tommy felt relief as he went over towards where the sidewalk met the road. He… didn’t want a day alone with Phil, no that would be weird, but the older man worked very often. Tommy didn’t like the man or anything, but it was ok to just spend some time with him. 

Maybe he’d even ask Phil about Wilbur’s… indulgences, if he was feeling up for it.

Much to the teen’s dismay, a certain person was already in the passenger seat.

“Hey, Tommy,” the older man greeted him as he slid in, “Wilbur’s gonna be joining us, I don’t know if I mentioned it.”

_You didn’t._

Tommy just nodded, ignoring the way Wil tried to catch his gaze in the rearview mirror. He just took off his backpack, placing it next to him and reluctantly putting on his seatbelt. 

Wilbur was probably afraid that the teen was gonna snitch, and that knowledge that the older was afraid of him made Tommy feel powerful. While that was nice, he really didn’t want the strange brunet hanging around him and keeping an eye on his every move. 

So, Tommy just zoned the fuck out and hoped that everything would be over soon enough.

•••

For a reason he didn’t know, Wilbur had gone off on his own after less than a few minutes of trailing Phil and Tommy around. Tommy didn’t particularly care for the other’s reasoning, he just thought it odd. Clearly he stood by his words from yesterday.

_”...you don’t have the **guts** —“_

And maybe he was right. Because as Phil walked around with the bag full of more clothes that Tommy had offered to carry, the teen found that he could bring himself to break the delicate mood.

“Is there anything else you want?” the older man asked as they meander around.

Tommy glanced around at the faces of the small shop fronts as he repressed the urge to squirm uncomfortably. 

“Nah, I’m ok.”

“Thanks though,” the teen hurried tacked on.

It wasn’t something he said much, no one around him did much that deserved that word. However, Phil was very obviously putting in effort and Tommy didn’t need to feel worse than he already did. He could make an exception for Phil.

Phil hummed, looking up at the younger. Some of his fringe fell away from his face and his eyes held something within them. He stood still now, in the middle of the mall floor and Tommy did the same. 

“Don’t worry about it,” the older man told him, “I don’t mind. There’s got to be something you’d like?”

There wasn’t, there really wasn’t, but if Tommy said no, he’d be a dick. He didn’t want that, so the younger began to glance around at the stores once more, this time taking a more serious look at what they were about. 

One did in fact look cool. It was an average shop, but in the display window sat things that could be classified as mystic. Books with engravings and intricate designs, crystals that reflected the harsh light from the display case, and a bunch of occult things littered the display. There had also been an arcade that he’d like, but Tommy wasn’t going to waste Phil’s money or time like that.

“Well… what about that store?”

When the older man’s gaze fell to where Tommy pointed, something humorous and warm crossed his face in the form of a grin. The teen would have been embarrassed for his selection if Phil didn’t immediately say,

“Sure thing!”

The inside of the store was just as decorative as the display. Tapestries with woven images hung on the walls. Tommy thought that Tubbo would like the one that had a combined sun and moon on it since he seemed to always talk about space. Little table towers decorated the middle of the store in an orderly fashion, and the teen was entranced with all the little trinkets everywhere.

“Hey, Niki,” Phil greeted someone behind Tommy.

“Hey, Mr. Watson! Good to see you again,” a high pitched yet soft voice replied happily, “Is there anything you’re looking specifically for?”

The blond turned to see that the Niki girl looked strangely familiar. Tommy was sure that he didn’t know many people who had short pink hair, where had he seen her before…?

Then it hit him.

“No, not really. Tommy just wanted to browse, I suppose,” the man replied, gesturing to the teen.

Niki’s gaze softened when she looked at him. She waved kindly.

“Hey, Tommy! I remember you from school.”

That’s right. She was one of the people sitting with Wilbur, so she must be one of his friends. Just like on Monday, she was still instantly open and friendly towards him. Niki was such a contradiction to Wilbur and the rest of his friends that Tommy knew of, he almost wanted to ask her why she liked him. 

“Y-yeah, hi again,” was what he went with instead.

Something seemed to click for her.

“I didn’t know you were Wil’s brother!” she exclaimed softly, clasping her hands together quietly. 

Everyone seemed to be genuinely shocked to find out that Tommy lived with the brunet and that he was adopted. And sure, that was probably his fault for never mentioning it or even interacting with the older at school but why would he waste his efforts? 

He sighed, annoyed.

The look on Phil’s face made him hesitate. Tommy didn’t understand it and the first word that came to mind was pride. That the older man was proud but that couldn’t be. Pride was never that warm. 

“Yeah, I am,” he replied with a blank tone without his usual apathy.

Phil seemed to glow at that.

Tommy felt like he was going to be sick.

“What are those things?” he asked, rapidly changing the subject.

Niki came over to the display rack he was near, smile still evident.

“These are dreamcatchers,” she told him, turning over one of the little net looking things in her palm, “They are supposed to keep nightmares away and catch the good dreams.”

Tommy wasn’t a very spiritual guy, but chasing nightmares away sounded pretty good to him. He found the smallest one there was, the circular frame being just smaller than his palm. 

He handed it to the young woman. 

She took it over to the register in the back where Phil had migrated to. 

“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” Tommy can hear her say as he looked over the tapestry that he noticed early.

Fuck, fifteen dollars was expensive for such a little contraption. Tommy felt his anxiety boil in his heart and he chewed the soft flesh of his bottom lip. He glanced over to the register, hoping that he could somehow communicate to Phil that he didn’t really need to get it…

But the older man swiped his card without hesitation.

There was a beep from the little machine and Niki was handing him the receipt.

Tommy tore his wide eyes away, struggling not to fiddle with his hands. He shoved them aggressively into his jean pockets as Phil and Niki grew closer.

“It was nice see you both,” she told them fondly, “Have a good day!”

“You too,” Phil replied with a final grin in her direction, “You ready, Tommy?”

He nodded instantaneously, joining Phil and giving the blond woman a final and hurried nod as they left.

“Now we got to find Wil.”

Tommy hummed in agreement, relieved that the man didn’t call the brunet “his brother.”

“I can go look for him outside,” the teen offered.

“Nonsense, Tommy, Wil has a phone. I’ll text him once when we get back to the car.”

Tommy flushed. Of course the older one had a phone, what was he talking about?

“Thanks for the offer though,” Phil added. 

The worst part was it sounded genuine.

He flushed more.

•••

Wilbur had come back smelling like something had died on his sweater. It was the most disgusting shit Tommy could imagine and it reminded him of rotten eggs on a summer day. It flooded the whole car but the teen didn’t open a window (he didn’t know if he was allowed.) If Phil noticed it, he didn’t comment so neither did Tommy.

He was very relieved when they finally pulled into the driveway of Phil’s house and the brunet stepped out, taking the horrible smell with him. He could finally breathe again.

“Tommy, real quick,” Phil spoke up.

The teen dropped his hand from the car door handle.

“I need you to stay out of the woods,” was not the sentence that he expected the older to say.

“Uhhh… what?” was what Tommy decided to go with.

Phil turned around and his uncharacteristically serious expression was more than worrying, but Tommy stayed put.

“I didn’t want to tell you this and freak you out on your first few days, but I don’t want you going into the woods, ok? It’s not particularly safe and I don’t want anything to happen to you. Does that make sense?”

The teen nodded and watched as Phil mimicked the gesture. He looked relieved, but a little too much so. Tommy couldn’t place his finger on what it was.

“Good. Sorry, I hope I didn’t frighten you,” the older man replied, his tone much lighter and teasing.

“No. I’m no pussy,” he declared loudly, getting out of the car.

Phil laughed joyfully as he grabbed the bags out from the trunk. He gave them to Tommy with a grin and the teen took them quickly.

“We’re having chicken parm tonight, by the way,” the older informed him as the blond teen began to make his way up the stairs.

“As long as Techno doesn’t cook it, fine by me,” Tommy replied easily, unsure of where his confidence was coming from. 

“Rest easy. It’ll be me cooking this time,” Phil said, chuckling, “Techno only cooks when I’m going to come home late from work.”

“Good!”

He bounded up the stairs and threw the bag on his bed. He fished out the smaller bag with all his clothes, placing the dreamcatcher on his desk. He’d need to find a way to put it up at sometime. 

As Tommy wandered into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, he realized that the rotten eggs smell wasn’t in the house. But, Wilbur was definitely in the house, because his door was closed and he could hear the other pacing back and forth, which he was prone to doing on occasion. That coupled with Phil’ warning was confusing… Tommy knew that a lot of people in this town were strange, but it was getting worse. 

He frowned as he spread the cool lotion onto his bruises, doing his best not to gasp at the temperature and the way it made the marks tingle. They had gotten better, now faded to a gentle violet, but Tommy really needed them gone soon. He didn’t have many more long sleeve shirts left.

The teen finished immediately when he heard a knock on the bathroom door, running the sink and sloppily putting the first aid kit back under the counter. He rolled his sleeves back down and shut off the water. 

“Sorry,” Wilbur muttered under his breath as the two exchanged places.

Tommy just hummed. 

The bathroom door slammed in his face.

And there was no odor following the brunet. 

_Whatever_ , Tommy thought.

•••

Dinner was much better than on Monday and Tommy didn’t feel like running every two seconds when he sat with them. He offered to do the dishes, but Phil refused, saying that wasn’t for him to worry about.

The night had gone without incident, and the teen had fallen asleep quickly.

It didn’t stay that way.

Something felt off to Tommy when he jostled himself awake. His room was dark, blanketing the entire space. There was a silver light that gently filtered in through his window and when Tommy peeked out, he could see that Tubbo had indeed been right. 

The full moon was hanging imposingly against the dark clouds.

Tommy frowned and turned away from the window, the pit in his stomach growing heavier. Something was wrong and the house itself felt empty. It was just too quiet and the silence loudly screamed in his ears. 

He crept to the door, pulling it open with nothing more than a gentle click from the lock disengaging. The cool thing about the bedroom door here was that it locked from the inside and Tommy almost always had it shut. 

The hallway was blanketed in shadows too, but it wasn’t so dark that Tommy didn’t notice that Phil’s door was open. In fact, when he stepped out, he noticed that everyone’s doors were open. The insides of all their rooms could be seen easily and it made the blond queasy.

He’d been right. He was alone. 

Tommy really should have gone back, locked his door and just sat through the night. It would have been the smarter option. 

Despite the fear crowding his mind, Tommy made his way quickly down the stairs. 

The moon filtered in through the kitchen window blinds, stripes of light illuminating the hall. But, it seemed a lot brighter than it should be. 

Also, why was there a fucking gust of wind running through the house?

Tommy quickly found the reason. The back door in the kitchen was wide open and the entire backyard could be seen under the moonlight. Tommy shivered, both from the cold and his increasing panic. It was more than possible that someone else was in the house with him, waiting to attack him.

The thought made his throat close up.

 _Settle down,_ he demanded, _Just quickly lock the door and you’ll be fine._

He broke into a dead sprint, grabbing the golden door handle as his other hand braced himself against the frame, quickly stopping himself. 

His arm was the only thing sticking outside, reaching into the freezing cold.

Tommy gulped.

The door slammed with a frightening boom and Tommy couldn’t get it to lock soon enough. When the gentle click came, though, he felt his fear slowly ebb away and his heart started to settle.

The second thing he noticed was that one of the knives from the holder was gone.

When he went back up to his room, there were two missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger...?
> 
> damn 😳


	14. of families and hard times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i dont have a good summary :(
> 
> **TW/CW: weapons (knives)**

Tommy hadn’t slept the rest of the night and that lack of rest was what he was going to blame for what happened next.

The was a knock on the door that made the teen’s heart begin to race as his thoughts crowded his mind. He was exhausted, but all of that was washed away as he whipped his head around to stare at the wood, fear building.

And maybe he had forgotten to re-lock his bedroom door in his haste, because the knock was quickly followed by the creaking of the hinges.

The teen leaped from his bed and grabbed the thin knife he’d taken last night. In his lack of sleep induced paranoia, his fight or flight immediately kicked in. He held the knife point up out in front of his chest, prepared for whomever had decided to come for him. 

Adrenaline burned through Tommy as he gripped the cold holster of the metal weapon tighter.

Phil was not the person he was prepared to see.

“Tommy?” the older man questioned, sounding confused.

 _Fuck,_ his brain supplied eloquently.

The fear mixed with confusion and suddenly Tommy didn’t know what to do. Phil had just caught him brandishing a knife in the early morning and by the look on the other man’s face, he _wasn’t_ happy about it. He fucked up big time now, but the teen couldn’t make himself move.

Phil’s blue eyes flicked to the knife and concern filled them. He immediately held his hands up in a defensive position, as if Tommy was a wild animal that the older had to calm. 

“Tommy, put the knife down.”

His voice was careful and soothing. His posture was tense and alert, like he was prepared to jump at the teen. Tommy felt his body shook and nothing was making sense. What was Phil doing? What was **he** doing?

“Tommy, it’s ok,” Phil tried again, “Just drop the knife for me please.”

The older man tried to take a step forward. 

Tommy immediately backed up and held the weapon a little higher.

The adrenaline ran through him, yelling at him and telling him to back up, to stay weary. But, that wasn’t right, Tommy had never seen Phil hurt anyone before. Not even when Wilbur and him had fought. He could have, but he didn’t.

 _Back up,_ a thought said. 

“-ook at me. Tommy, look at me.”

The voice was stern. Tommy didn’t dare disobey. 

He looked.

Phil was still standing there and his eyes found Tommy’s. They were full of concern, pain as well as things that were deeper. Warm things that swam deeper and deeper into those ocean depths. If he didn’t know any better, Tommy would have said it looked like love.

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Tommy gasped loudly and the cold burned his hand. The knife went tumbling to the carpet with almost no fanfare. What the actually fuck was he doing with that thing?!

“Tommy, can you back up for me?” Phil asked gently.

The teen immediately pressed his back to the window warm with sunlight. Phil moved so fast that he nearly missed it, grabbing the knife off the floor and returning to his place in the door frame.

Tommy felt the tears spring up in his tired eyes.

“Phil- I… I’m-”

He swallowed thickly.

“I didn’t…”

“It’s ok, Tommy,” the older man soothed, “You’re ok.”

Tommy didn’t believe him.

“I’m going to put this back now,” Phil told the teen calmly.

He nodded.

Once Phil was gone, Tommy shut and locked the door. 

He fell into the bed that Phil’d given him, in the room Phil’d offered him with the pj’s Phil’d bought him on.

And he sobbed.

•••

Tommy didn’t emerge from his room until well after noon, eyes puffy and cheeks reddened. Both were evidence of his hours-long cry session, but the teen was just hungry. So, he made his way into the kitchen.

“You look horrible,” Wilbur commented as he watched the teen walking in. 

The brunet was placing his dishes in the dishwasher and Tommy paid him no mind.

Techno cleared his throat and stood up from the table where he and Phil were seated.

“Wilbur, can you come to the… backyard with me?” the pink haired man asked tensely, “I need your help in the shed.”

The man rolled his eyes, but he went anyway.

“I’m not training with you ever-” 

And they were gone. 

_Just you and Phil_ , a voice said unhelpfully.

“Tommy?”

Right on cue. 

“What,” Tommy replied, uncaring how poor his attitude was. 

He was tired, sick of crying and embarrassed, so he really wasn’t in the mood to get yelled at. Though, it wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter.

He turned to the older man, who looked worried and frowned. 

“Just… let’s get this over with,” he muttered, eyes falling to the floor.

“Get what over with?” Phil asked, sounding confused.

Tommy’s tiredness immediately switched over to anger. What was he confused about, Phil had every right to shout at him after what Tommy had done this morning. The teen didn’t want it to drag out longer than it should, pissed with the coy attitude the older man had.

“Just- go ahead, yell at me!” he exclaimed furiously, “I don’t want it to be longer than it needs to, ok?!”

Phil looked horrified.

“I’m not going to yell at you, Tommy. Why would you think that?”

Tommy threaded his hands through his hair, pulling at it aggressively. 

“What do you mean why?! Because I deserve it after what happened this morning!” he practically shouted.

“Tommy, can I touch you?” Phil just asked, voice merely above a whisper.

“No!” Tommy snapped.

Those eyes were so sad. The sadness washed his anger away instantly and without his fuel, Tommy was folding in on himself. He wrapped his thin arms around himself and he shuddered feverishly. If he could have, there would certainly have been more tears. 

“Tommy, I’m not mad at you for what happened this morning,” the older man began. 

“You should be,” he butted in, out of impulse.

“Just… listen to me. I am not mad. Nor would anything you might do make me mad enough to verbal abuse you.”

Tommy flinched at the sentiment.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty that I’m not hurting you, either,” Phil continued, “I want you to feel safe here. Do you understand?”

He nodded slowly. 

“You deserve to be safe. Can you say it back to me, Tommy?”

“Don’t make me say that,” Tommy managed, heart clenching.

He could feel the emotion running off of the older man. It only made him feel worse.

“That’s ok,” Phil replied gently, “Do you have any questions?”

“Do you know Tubbo?”

This question clearly caught the older man off guard. His expression was surprised before he quickly collected himself.

“Yes, I do. Why?”

“Could I maybe invite him over?” Tommy muttered, glancing at Phil from the side of his gaze.

Phil’s face softened.

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late night post ahaha
> 
> i have no time to beta this, i’m so sorry if it doesn’t make sense


	15. hey bestie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tommy & tubbo hang out for an afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s me, back with the P L O T

“Hello?”

The voice sounded familiar, with an American accent instead of the British one that Tommy was expecting.

“Hey, is Tubbo there?” Tommy asked, picking at the woven material of the couch.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Uh, Tommy.”

“Oh, hey Tommy!” the person exclaimed with uncomfortable familiarity, “This is Clay. Sure, I’ll go get Toby for you. Hang on a sec.”

The line went silent and Tommy frowned to himself. What was Clay doing over at Tubbo’s house?

“Tommy?” a new voice asked.

“Hey, Tubbo. Do you wanna come over?”

The line went silent a second time.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, I was just wondering,” Tommy immediately added.

He didn’t want to sound desperate or anything.

“Sure, I can come over!” Tubbo replied cheerily, “As long as your dad is ok with it?”

“Yeah, I already asked Phil. What about your parents?”

“They don’t particularly mind when I go out, as long as I’m home by dinner,” he informed, “Well, awesome! I’ll have Clay drive me.”

“Do you want my address?” Tommy asked, amusement audible.

“Ohhhh! Yeah, that’d be helpful!”

•••

Tommy greeted the grinning brunet out on the front porch.

“Hey there!” Tubbo said with a brilliant smile.

“Hey, big man. How are you?”

“I’m good! What about you?”

It had been long enough for the redness in his eyes and face to have completely gone. Tommy gave a thin smile.

“Not bad. I was wondering if you wanted to walk to the town centre?”

“Sure!”

Tommy hummed and open the front door to shout,

“WE’RE GOING INTO TOWN!”

“Ok,” Phil’s voice called back.

“Do you need supervision,” Wilbur shouted.

“No, fuck off!” Tommy replied.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said to a very amused brunet and the two began to make their way down the driveway.

“Well, what do you want to do in the town centre?” the other asked as they reached the end of the street.

Tommy grinned.

“That was just a cover story. Follow me!”

With that, the blond dashed into the thick trees, leaving Tubbo with no choice but to come to.

“Tommy, wait!” the brunet protested, jogging to try to keep up with the taller’s bounding leaps, “The woods aren’t safe!”

The branches on the ground and thick foliage cleared a little. Tommy rolled his eyes, turning and walking backwards, the road quickly disappearing from his view.

“Whatever,” he said, watching the smaller finally catch up, “It’ll be fine. It’s not like we're gonna be murdered.”

Tubbo frowned, taking a deep breath as he looked around nervously.

“Clay always warned me to stay out of here, though.”

“What, is he like your dad?” Tommy snarked back.

“My brother.”

If Tommy’s attitude bothered the other, he showed no signs of it.

“What?!” the other squawked, stopping with a frown, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tubbo rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t tell me that you were Wilbur’s brother!”

“That’s different! I was adopted, that man isn’t really my brother,” he replied and began walking forward once more.

“I was adopted too!”

Tommy glanced down at the other, surprise barely concealed. 

“Oh…” he muttered, looking away, “Sorry.”

Tubbo huffed and Tommy felt shame curl through him. He didn’t understand why, but it sat heavy on his chest as the birds chirped gently around them.

“It’s alright,” the brunet said eventually.

“So… were you born here?”

He shook his head.

“No, but I’ve been here as long as I can remember. Clay and Niki, she’s my sister, they were both born here and they are our parent’s actual kids,” Tubbo explained.

Tommy hummed, glancing down at the brunet.

“Isn’t this town weird to you?”

“Not anymore. You get used to it after a while.”

Speckled sunlight fell gently down on them.

The blond scrunched his nose.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Wilbur and Techno’s weird behavior,” he admitted, “Phil’s ok, but even him… I don’t know, man.”

Tubbo smiled softly. 

“And that’s ok,” he replied kindly, “I’m sure they understand.”

Why did that statement make him feel so _warm_? It was gross and Tommy shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say in response…

There was a loud and metal sounding boom and suddenly Tubbo was no longer walking beside him. Tommy jolted and watched the smaller tumble to the forest floor. 

Now was definitely not the time to laugh, the brunet could have been injured in some way.

Laughter racked his body and Tommy doubled over as the loud sound escaped from him. He could feel Tubbo’s glare burning him, but that only seemed to make it worse. 

“Tu...bbo— oh my fuck… are you ok?” he managed between desperate gasps for air.

“Yeah, just peachy,” the other replied hurriedly, “But Tommy, listen!”

He took a few big breaths to stifle the rest of the laughter, watching the brunet who was now sitting up. The smaller brought his foot back, and hit once more with the sole of his shoes. The rock made another thud.

“Rocks shouldn’t sound like metal,” Tubbo replied. 

“What do you think it is?” Tommy asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

He knelt down next to the other.

“No clue.”

“Let’s open it,” he suggested.

Tubbo looked up at him, skeptical.

“How?”

“I dunno! Let’s figure it out,” the blond replied confidently.

He placed his hands on the fake rock. It indeed was cool and too smooth to be anything else than metal. 

“Help me push.”

The two pushed against the harsh prop, straining as they fought to get the metal out from the ground. The thing didn’t budge once and all it accomplished was leaving the teens tired. 

“What the fuck?” Tommy exclaimed breathlessly as Tubbo slumped over onto the metal, forehead pressed against it.

“This is stupid,” the other bemoaned.

Tommy frowned and ran a hand through his messy hair, frustrated.

“I want it to know what this is!” he exclaimed, “Fucking open!”

The side of his fist collided with the side of the metal and it suddenly gave away under the pressure. There was a sharp clicking noise and an exclamation from Tubbo, who quickly sat up. Tommy felt himself freeze as a dark line became visible in the middle of the metal. 

It began to open.

The two bits split completely, both retracting deep into the ground. Dust escaped quickly from the contraption, causing Tommy, who had stuck his head over it to see what was happening, to inhale way too much of it. 

“Fuck,” he croaked, throat raw from the coughing fit the dust had thrown him into. 

“You good?” Tubbo asked.

“Fine.”

“That’s why you don’t do that,” the brunet informed him cheerily. 

Tommy frowned, but not at the statement. He wasn’t even sure he heard what the other had said. 

There was a maroon coloured journal laying in the open sunlight. The leather of the covers and the binding that kept it shut was old and worn, and the ends of the pages that were visible were visibly worn and yellowed. There was an emerald heart attached to the end of a thin leather bookmark and it reflected the aging sun gently. 

“Wow!” Tubbo breathed from over his shoulder.

Tommy nodded and tentatively reached a hand out, carefully brushing his calloused fingers across the jewel. There were two little marks encrusted into the green. They were black and the teen thought they could vaguely represent… wings?

“We should see what it says,” he whispered.

“Be careful,” the brunet responded.

It wasn’t a no.

The blond took the journal in his hands, making quick work of the loose knot on the binding. The thin strap slowly slid off, and he softly opened the book. 

There were definitely words written on the page, but they didn’t make any sense. Tommy squinted, trying to make out what the wiggly lines dancing across his vision meant, but it didn’t even look like English. 

“What a fucking let down,” Tommy complained, handing it over to Tubbo, “Can you even read it?”

Tubbo frowned.

“Why would you ask me?”

Tommy groaned, taking back the journal and reclosing it.

“It’s not even English!”

The brunet shrugged, giving a small laugh.

“Who knows?” he replied, “It does look important though.”

“How am I gonna get this back home without Phil noticing?” he complained, they both of them glancing at the late afternoon sun.

“Good luck,” was all Tubbo offered.

Tommy scowled and the other just grinned wider. 

A brilliant idea struck him then. He turned away from the other and shoved the book into his waistband. Pulling his shirt over the book, he turned back with his hands in a “tada” motion.

“What’d you think?”

Tubbo thought for a moment.

“It looks like you have abs, so I don’t think that’ll work.”

“Fuck you!”

•••

“Hey,” Tommy started as the two turned onto his street.

Tubbo glanced up, eyes bright.

“Sorry if you wanted to actually go to the town,” he mumbled, “Kinda got sidetracked.”

The brunet laughed at that.

“You didn’t get sidetracked, you used me to help you break rules!”

Tommy laughed nervously.

But, Tubbo’s words softened.

“It’s fine. I had fun!”

Tommy frowned at the way he wanted to smile.

“Well… that’s good,” he replied slowly.

“Are you sure you have to leave?” Tommy asked as the house loomed closer.

“Yeah,” Tubbo replied and he sounded… upset.

“Ok, well… oh look, your brother’s already here,” he pointed out.

Clay was indeed waiting in the driveway with his beat up car.

“How’d he know,” Tommy asked.

Tubbo just shrugged.

“Cause I think my parents aren’t gonna be home for dinner tonight. I probably have to help cook with Niki.”

“I will never cook with Techno or Wilbur ever again,” Tommy vowed loudly.

“What happened?” Tubbo asked the beginnings of a smile dancing on his lips.

“It’s a long story.”

The brunet nodded, looking a little dejected.

“But, I’ll tell you in school tomorrow.”

The way the other perked up at the thought of seeing each other in school made Tommy understand the family resemblance. But, Tubbo would be like a dog that he’d actually be able to tolerate.

“I’ll see you then,” Tubbo said happily, heading for the car as Clay waved at them.

“Yup,” he replied.

They went their separate ways.

The hum of a car engine was shut out by the closing of the front door.

Tommy ran straight to his room and pulled the journal out from its uncomfortable hiding place. He opened it once more just to see if anything had changed.

Nothing.

 _I’ve got to find a good place for this_ , he said, glancing around his room.

The book ended up in between his mattress and box spring as Phil’s voice called up the stairs for dinner. As he made his way to the kitchen, Tommy thought of the afternoon adventure he’d had with Tubbo.

It was the first time he’d been happy when he sat and ate dinner with the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> best friend shit


	16. actual bonding? no way...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wilby isn’t that bad of a guy. especially after getting the shit beat outta him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo ✌️
> 
>  **TW/CW:** fighting, non graphic

“...and Techno ended up eating raw chicken.”

“Seriously?!” Tubbo exclaimed, disbelief present on his face.

“Yeah. Wilbur yelled at him for it.”

Tubbo and Sam exchanged amused looks. Tommy frowned playfully.

“What, don’t believe me?” he replied.

“I might just ask Wil myself,” Sam teased.

Tommy rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. It was finally the end of the school day and they could get out of this hellhole. He’d meet up with the other two by the locker he didn’t use and the three of them made their way to the front of the school. Sure, he’d been reluctant to tell the story to Sam as well, but thanks to Tubbo’s insisting, he did.

But, he made the both of them laugh.

Tommy felt proud.

“Are you coming on the bus today?” Tubbo asked as they traversed the main hall. 

“Hopefully,” he replied, a little annoyed, “If Wilbur doesn’t make us late again.”

Techno had once again texted Tommy to make sure that the older brunet got the buses with him. This time, he snapped back, telling the older man that Wil was perfectly capable of getting on the bus without supervision.

 **Big Man™ Tommy**  
why doesn’t phil just text me himself? why do you have to do it?!  
_read at 1:51_

 **Pink Boy**  
Phil’s working, Tommy. That’s why he asks me to do it. I’m just relaying a message, kid, no reason to get all bitchy.  
_read at 1:53_

 **Pink Boy**  
Just do it. Keep an eye on him, for Phil.  
_read at 1:53_

He was aware that Techno often gave bad answers to any questions he asked and that it was suspicious. He didn’t trust the pinkette. It was Phil that made Tommy worried.

As much as the teen didn’t want to watch after the older, he really rather not be on Phil’s bad side. Sure, he’d never seen what that entailed, but Tommy wasn’t about to find out now.

“Well, he’s right there, so you should be fine,” Sam spoke up.

True to word, there was Wilbur, standing in the main lobby with Schlatt and Minx with him. The two men seemed to be in a heated discussion over something that Tommy was too far away to hear. Minx looked pissed, but something more was there.

“You two go ahead. I’ll see ya later,” the teen told the people beside him.

“If you’re sure,” Tubbo replied.

He nodded.

Two sets of goodbyes were said as Sam and Tubbo reluctantly left the blond to deal with whatever the fuck was going on.

Just as he began to grow closer, Wilbur shoved Schlatt rather aggressively. It made Tommy’s steps falter, but the smaller didn’t even look bothered. He held his hands up in a lazy defensive position and though the teen could only see the back of his head, Wil’s expression told him that the bearded man was grinning.

Minx had placed an arm across the agitated brunet, briskly and furiously speaking something to him. Wilbur seemed to ignore her, blazing eyes trained on Schlatt.

Tommy frowned, growing nervous as he slowly walked forward.

The purple haired woman noticed him quickly.

“Tommy,” she said quickly, accent muddling her words, “Get Wilbur outta here.”

“Wilbur, I don’t want to be late,” he stated matter of factly, “C’mon.”

The brunet glanced down for only a brief second.

Tommy followed his gaze.

Schlatt’s mouth was twisted into a grin that looked as though it hurt. His teeth looked too sharp for a normal person and they glinted dangerously. His brown eyes smoldered with fire, harsh and furious. But, he looked amused.

It made the teen really want to leave.

 _Fuck it,_ he told himself.

Tommy reached out and grabbed a sleeve of the dramatic trench coat that Wil always wore. He grabbed the access fabric deliberately, as to not touch the skin of the other’s wrist. This was absolutely crossing over many lines, but he just hoped that the older would be able to get over it.

“C’mon, Wilbur,” Tommy repeated, this time tugging at the man’s sleeve like a child.

“Fine,” he spat back, the vitriol in his voice almost enough to make Tommy want to run.

Wilbur let himself be tugged away as Schlatt’s eyes danced across the scene. Tommy didn’t like having the man look at him, it felt off. 

“Yeah, go on,” Schlatt yelled suddenly, “You don’t belong here anyways, Wilby.”

Tommy’s stomach twisted at the sickly sweet honey that dripped from the words, but he was smart enough to know that they were poisonous. The venom seemed to get to Wilbur and he stopped, frozen. 

They were at each other’s throats instantly. Tommy flinched, rooted to the school floor in fear. Wilbur had the height but Schlatt clearly had the strength because the taller went straight against the nearest wall. Every punch, every kick, every snarl made the teen want to run away and never come back. He hated watching, but his stupid eyes were stuck to the fight…

“Help me, Tommy,” a loud voice called.

Minx had grabbed Schlatt’s collar of his leather jacket, pulling him down to the ground. Wilbur, who was panting aggressively, halfway hunched over, looked as though he wanted to continue. 

Tommy was beside the brunet in a flash, standing right in the middle of the two older men. He placed his hands on Wil’s shoulders, just as he’d seen Phil do, hoping that that kind of touch was ok. 

“Wil, we need to get out of here. Right now would be nice, before someone calls security,” the teen said forcefully.

Those dark eyes fell onto the blond.

“Ok,” Wilbur croaked.

His nose was bleeding and one of his hands was holding his side like it was killing him. He looked too pale, not that Tommy cared or anything. Because he didn’t. He just wanted to get home.

Tommy quickly pulled Wilbur out of the building, speed walking as fast as the injured man would let them.

The first bus’ engine roared to life. 

They quickly clamoured onto the third bus, the bus drive casting a concerned look in their direction.

“What happened,” they asked.

“Uh… he just got a nose bleed, no biggie,” Tommy quickly replied.

“I’m bleeding?” Wilbur whispered.

Tommy frowned.

“Yeah...?”

“You’re sitting with me,” the brunet replied and rushed them to the back of the bus.

Tommy could feel Tubbo’s worried look on them as they passed, and the blond just gave him a wary smile, trying to let him know it would be ok. Tubbo frowned but nodded meekly.

Tommy was worried that Wilbur would try to make a scene or do something stupid, but the entirety of the bus ride went ok. The brunet had dug out a tissue from his coat, and did his best to get the bleeding to stop. Tommy had no idea if it was broken or not, but the other thing one his mind was how Phil was going to react. 

The teen bit the inside of his cheek.

 _What if Phil’s upset because I didn’t bring him home safely,_ he fretted furiously. 

He didn’t want Phil to be mad.

The ride seemed like it took ages and it only served to unnerve Tommy further. He did his best not to fidget, but Wilbur looked like he was doing no better. The older was hunched forward, curly bangs pressed flat into his forehead by the disgusting blue seat material. He seemed to grow paler by the minute, fingers going white at the joints as he held his tissue in place. His eyes were shut tightly and he was muttering something too soft for the blond to catch. 

Tommy could have screamed when he finally saw the house come into view.

“Wilbur,” he called gently.

His eyes fluttered up, unfocused and distant.

“We’re here.”

The brunet nodded. 

Tommy got up, slowly followed by Wilbur, who didn’t seem to be solid on his feet. It was not helping the situation, but the teen didn’t feel like he could support the shaking man. He didn’t know if Wil would let him touch him and Tommy definitely didn’t want the older’s arm slung around.

When the bus came to a stop, the blond just walked as slow as he could so the brunet could keep up. Tubbo was no longer on the bus, but everybody else’s eyes were staring at them. Tommy did his best to ignore them and continue his leisurely pace.

They made it down the stairs without Wilbur falling over, which was a fucking miracle. The bus drive gave them one last concerned look before shutting the loud door and driving off to the next stop.

“The house is right there, c’mon,” he coaxed.

The unfortunate part was that no one seemed to be home when Tommy opened the door for the older. There was no noise, no footsteps anywhere in the house to indicate that Phil or Techno.

Tommy would have to do this himself.

“Ok, how are you—“

He nearly fell flat on his face as he stumbled into the living room. 

“Wilbur?” Tommy asked.

Something stung his throat as he looked down at what he’d tripped over. It was indeed Wilbur, laying on his side, all sprawled across the welcome mat. He was so pale that when he was laying down, Tommy could easily mistake him for a dead man. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and the one hand with the bloodied tissue now laid beside his shut eyes. His nose had stopped bleeding, but the dried blood was all smeared across his lips and the tip of his nose. The only way that the teen knew for sure that he wasn’t dead was the faint and ragged breathing he could hear against the silent house.

“Shit! Wilbur-”

He stopped himself, clutching at the hem of his shirt. What the fuck was he going to say that would help, the man couldn’t hear him. 

Tommy felt tears well a little as his thoughts swarmed his mind like a group of angry bees. 

_Just… get him up on the couch first,_ he thought, trying his best to calm down. 

He flinched as he managed to sit Wilbur up a little too easily. Wrapping his arms under the older’s armpits, Tommy managed to half carry, half drag the long man into the living room. 

“Remind me never to kill in one,” he told himself aloud between huffs, “Why are bodies so heavy?”

Wilbur may have looked like he was built with the structural integrity of pasta, but Tommy was out of breath and with an aching back by the time he managed to kind of get Wil to lay across the couch, one leg hanging off.

 _Clean the blood off next,_ he reminded himself. 

The downstairs bathroom was right under the stairs. It was only a half bath, but all he needed was water. The teen grabbed a few pieces of paper towel from the kitchen, and dabbed them with only a little bit of water from the bathroom sink. And when he realized he could have just used the kitchen sink, Tommy let out a string of profanities that was many words too long for a situation like this.

Tommy didn’t question himself as he immediately began wiping away the blood on Wilbur’s face. He hoped the older won’t mind and the teen suddenly realized that he didn’t know Wil’s boundaries. 

_I never asked, huh?_

Disappointed and guilty, he continued to gently wash up the blood, the towel staining a rustic reddish tint. 

Wilbur looked so peaceful as he laid tenderly there, Tommy almost didn’t recognize him. Blazing dark eyes defined the older man in his mind that when they were closed, the teen was sure that this wasn’t the person who was supposed to be his “brother”. 

He was also so pallid up close, so much so that it was almost unnatural.

Frowning, Tommy used his free hand and pressed the back of it to Wil’s forehead. He pushed the guilt away and waited, hoping that he wouldn’t feel a temperature.

Wil’s dark eyes slowly opened.

“Tommy?” he asked, voice hoarse.

“How are you, man?” he replied, pulling both of his hands away from the brunet.

Distantly, Tommy was aware that he wasn’t acting like himself. But, there was something tranquil about the moment he was sitting in, that sweetness making him feel calm. It was a rare feeling, but the teen didn’t feel the need to question it.

“Did I scare you?” Wilbur questioned.

They danced around each other, both searching for something.

Tommy stepped closer first.

“It was strange, yeah,” he answered.

“I hate the sight of blood,” Wilbur told him quietly, pushing himself up. 

“You didn’t hit your head when you fainted, right? Is everything unbroken?”

The brunet groaned, giving him a lopsided smile. 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

There’s a beat of quiet silence.

“Can I ask you something?” Tommy tried, sounding unsure even to himself.

Wil hummed approvingly.

“What… what did Schlatt mean?”

The brunet went silent, face shifting into something more serious and anxious. Tommy regretted asking, but the words were out now so he just did his best to wait for an answer.

“It’s ok if you… I dunno, are gay or something, I don’t care about that shit,” he quickly tacked on. 

Wilbur chuckled lightly.

“I appreciate that, but no that’s not what he meant,” the brunet replied, seeming to debate whether or not to answer.

He answered.

“Uh… well, Schlatt meant that I didn’t belong in high school cause I’m too old for it.”

“How old are you?” Tommy asked carefully.

The words seem to weigh Wilbur down. His shoulders slumped and he looked more tired than the blond had ever seen another person look before.

“I… don’t know,” he muttered, so soft that Tommy almost missed the words.

_Oh._

“Wilbur, um…” he began, shifting from foot to foot, “That’s- that sucks… I’m… well, y’know-”

He could say the word around Tubbo so easily, why was it so hard now?

Wilbur’s lopsided grin was back.

“Yeah, I do. Thank you, Toms.”

The old and familiar nickname made his vision blur.

“So… how come you don’t know your age?” 

He didn’t want to push too far, so when Wil just sighed, he allowed it.

“Not today,” Wilbur replied, “Ok?”

“That’s fine,” Tommy offered back.

The front door opened and both Phil and Techno stepped into the house, chatter coming to an end when they saw a dizzy Wilbur with a bloody tissue and Tommy holding another blood stained tissue.

“You two ok?” Phil asked as he looked them over.

“It looks like someone did a number on you both,” Techno commented boredly. 

It was like the two of them coming home had broken whatever spell had caused the two to get along in the first place. Wilbur huffed, suddenly very recognizable to the blond as he stood and carefully brushed past Tommy.

“We’re fine, no thanks to you,” the brunet threw back.

He was gone up the stairs before Tommy could even be confused about that statement. He had no idea what Wil meant, but whatever it was didn’t bother the pinkette at all. He just rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll be in the shed,” Techno said, keeping his shoes on as he walked down the hallway and out through the kitchen door. 

Phil sighed and chuckled.

“What do you want for dinner, Tommy,” he asked the teen, hanging up his coat and slipping off his sneakers. 

“Uhhhh, no clue. I don’t even know how to use an oven or stove,” Tommy replied with a nervous laugh. 

He followed Phil into the kitchen to throw out the bloody and wet paper towel.

“Would you like me to teach you?”

The question threw Tommy off guard.

“Right now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tommy’s stream today made my brain go brrrrrr


	17. Cooking with Dadza™️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy learns to cook with help from Phil. Time for some good ol’ Dadza content :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW//CW:** Minor injuries, non graphic

“So the burners just turn on using these knobs,” Phil explained, “And you see the little picture here? The filled in circle tells you which burner you’re turning on.”

Tommy made his mouth into an ‘o’ shape, watching careful as the older man explained the mechanics of the machine. 

“So, what’cha gonna make,” he asked as Phil opened the fridge. 

“Steak and potatoes sound good?”

Tommy smiled. 

“Hell yeah.”

The man nodded, pulling out the meat. He pointed to the countertop where there laid a mesh bag full of the potatoes.

“Can I trust you not to cut your hands off if I asked to peel them?”

“Of course! I’m a big man, Phil!” Tommy exclaimed loudly.

Phil laughed at that.

“Well, I trust you! Can you peel three for me?”

“On it!”

•••

Tommy had managed to peel the spuds with only a few nicks on his left thumb. They weren’t deep or anything, but Phil made fun of him for immediately fucking up his hand right after his other one had all but healed. 

The older man had cut up the potatoes and thrown them in the oven, letting the teen set the timer. He was getting better at this!

Now, he stood in silence, watching Phil cook the steak on a pan. The grease bubbled and hissed, sending little specks of juice leaping from the pan and staining the black oven top. It was enchanting in a strange way, and just as the teen felt himself zone out, a thought popped into his mind.

“Is it ok if I ask you a question, Phil?”

“Of course, mate, go on,” the blond man replied jovially.

Tommy fiddled with his hands, looking down to his sock clad feet. Apprehension flooded him.

“Well… I was just wondering, uh- that is to say…”

Phil turned to look at him with a bright smile and amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

“You good, mate? Don’t choke now.”

 _He’s not going to be so amused in a second_ , he thought guilty.

“I want to know… what’s up with this town?”

Tommy looked up, expecting to see Phil look… some kind of way? Instead, the older man just had a mildly curious look on his face as he watched the teen silently. Unsure of what he wanted, Tommy decided to continue.

“Everyone in this town is so strange, I mean, like it’s crazy,” he began, “And I mean everybody. They all have strange names or they act strange… you’ve acted strange too, Phil. Like that time you told me specifically not to go in the forest or that time after Wilbur and I fought. You touched him and then it was like… he changed? I just… I was just ignoring it, y’know, thought that it wasn’t a big deal, but- it is a big deal. I was kinda tired of not having answers…”

Phil sighed and he suddenly looked years older than he already was. The lines in his face were suddenly very prominent and his eyes were more fatigued than he’d ever seen. The older man turned back to attend to the food, but the thick silence told Tommy that he was merely wondering what he could possibly say in return. 

“Tommy…” the older man began, hesitation clear, “This town is strange, as you have clearly picked up on. It’s— not normal… and it’s dangerous.”

He’s looked at the teen once more, eyes full of emotion.

“I don’t regret adopting you, Tommy. Never think that. I… I’m just sorry that I’ve brought you to such a place.”

Tommy frowned.

“Why don’t you just move?” he asked carefully.

“I wish it were that easy.”

“But isn’t it?”

He was so confused. 

Phil frowned.

And he said no more.

Tommy knew he shouldn’t push any further. He didn’t want to test Phil, but he knew that the older man hadn’t answered his questions on purpose. 

He shouldn’t have said anything else.

“Why is everyone so weird,” Tommy began, “Why does Wilbur seem like he is always doing something illegal? What did you do to make him suddenly change after we fought? Why doesn’t he know how old he is?”

Phil was clearly not expecting the last question, visible tensing under the teen’s gaze. 

“Did… he tell you that or—“

“Yeah, he told me,” Tommy mumbled, looking down to the tile, “the one time he wasn’t being a dick.”

“Tommy, Wilbur’s story isn’t mine to tell. There’s a lot that you don’t know and you're entitled to that curiosity. But, trust me, I’m trying to keep you safe, ok?”

“Will you ever tell me?” Tommy muttered, feeling oddly dejected.

Phil sighed.

“I don’t know.”

Tommy nodded robotically. He didn’t understand what Phil was trying to protect him from? Everyone was strange, but surely the truth wouldn’t kill him. 

His mind suddenly wandered to the book hidden between his mattress and box spring. 

_Should I ask Phil about it?_

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” Phil replied, cutting the teen off.

“Is this your way of saying ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older?’” he teased.

Phil let out an amused huff. Tommy grinned.

The oven timer went off.

“Tommy, do you want to flip those?”

“Hell yeah!”

“So, grab the spatula… Tommy, put on the oven gloves!”

“I’ll be fine, big man!”

“Tommy!”

•••

“You actually cooked?” Techno asked, voice full of disbelief as the pink haired man looked at the dinner before him.

“Yup! Phil taught me,” Tommy said proudly, approaching the table with the cutlery in hand.

The teen distributed the forks and knives neatly, handing it to the other three without an attitude, including Wilbur. The brunet took the cutlery plainly, muttering something that could have been a ‘thank you’. Tommy didn’t respond, he just nodded and shied away from the glowing expression that Phil now held. 

“Alright, let’s eat,” the older man announced.

“Go ahead, it’s not poisoned,” Tommy told Techno, who was poking at his chicken.

“I know it’s not- fine…”

Tommy felt something gentle expand in his heart as he watched the others actually eat something that he’d help to make. The teen didn’t understand why, but there was something that made him smile as he watched Wilbur discuss school, the most mundane thing on Earth, with Phil. There was nothing strange happening, nothing that Tommy would struggle to justify to himself later at night.

Just a chat about school, omitting the fight, of course.

Tommy felt a smile tug at his lips. 

Wilbur stood up after only one meal, not that Tommy cared or anything. There wasn’t any sort of feeling that pricked his heart or that made him frown. Nope, none at all.

“Thanks for the meal,” Wilbur said, voice coming from behind where Tommy sat.

The teen bit his tongue. They had been doing… ok today, and he really didn’t want to run it now. 

There was a large hand suddenly on his head, pressing into his fluffy mess of hair. Tommy tensed instinctually, but the heavy hand ruffled his hair and made it more of a mess than it already had been.

Then, Wilbur was gone, his footsteps quietly receding upstairs. Tommy thought he saw Phil and Techno exchange a look from across the dinner table, but he had reeled around to catch the brunet as he walked out. 

“What was that about?” Tommy asked as he turned back around, the good mood suddenly dissipating.

“I’m not sure,” Phil replied softly, getting up with Techno quickly behind, “But, you don’t need to worry about Wil, ok?”

“Ok,” Tommy mumbled as Phil took his finished plate, “Do you want help with the dishes?”

He wanted Phil to say ‘yes’.

“That’s ok, Tommy. I’ve got Techno to help me.”

The pinkette didn’t even protest.

So, Tommy spent the rest of the evening in his room, trying to understand any of the pieces of homework that had been given to him. He’d never been a good student, but his teacher always said if _only_ he tried. 

“I am trying,” Tommy grumbled as he glared at the English reading that didn’t make any sense.

He did manage to finish two questions on his math homework, remembering what Sam had taught him. How had Sam, someone the teen had known for barely a week, taught Tommy better than most teachers?

Maybe it was because Tommy liked Sam.

 _Do I like Sam?_ Tommy thought, confused, _Well, do I like Tubbo?_

_I think… I like them…?_

Tommy sighed, suddenly exhausted. The teen got up, leaving all his papers strewn across his desk. He grabbed his MP3 off the nightstand and put in his earbuds, laying down on his bed gently. 

Music floated through his tired mind.

The urge to hold the journal hidden below him was suddenly overwhelming. Tommy rolled over, hanging his front half of his body off the side of the bed and reached for the book. The cool leather tickled his hand as he pulled it out from beneath the mattress.

The music was soft.

The words on the pages swam calmly.

And Tommy’s eyelids fell shut gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey :) i’ve been gone for quiet awhile, shits been wild. boutta be real cringe, but thanks for those who been sticking around. i appreciate it <33
> 
> anyways... wilby scoot acting weird but phil n toms bond :D


End file.
